Off Camera
by felix-felicis33
Summary: Kurt Hummel is the host of his own popular talk show. When Grammy award winning musician Blaine Anderson makes a guest appearance on his show, Kurt gets more than just an interview out of it.
1. Chapter 1

Cameras stopped rolling, lights dimmed, and audience members began gathering their belongings together whilst chattering excitedly about the show. As various members of the crew hurried backwards and forwards in what appeared to be random directions to someone unfamiliar with their work, Kurt made his way backstage along a short corridor which made a sharp turn out onto the stage. He paused for a few minutes at the dressing rooms of his guests – a well-known actress and the winner of a recent reality TV show – and once again thanked them for appearing on his show.

Sometimes he wondered who should be thanking who. His show – _The Kurt Hummel Show_ – was extremely popular and he had won several TV awards for it, including an Emmy, and an appearance on it boosted the popularity and status of every guest, but at the same time it earned Kurt a living and the added bonuses of awards and celebrity status. Some of the people who appeared on his show realised this and thanked him for the opportunity of being on the show, but others, obnoxiously swaggering around with their over-inflated egos, didn't bother.

He sank down on the small couch in his dressing room with a sigh and eyed the fruit platter sitting on the table in front of him, trying to decide if he was hungry or not. He was in the middle of debating whether to eat snacks here and then cook dinner at home later or to go out for dinner tonight when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said absently, his mind still on his dinner plans.

One of the show's producers, a young woman named Taylor, entered the room carrying her earpiece, which she'd obviously just removed. He returned her smile as she sat down next to him, pushing her blonde hair behind her ears. "Good show today," she complimented. "You handled that mess-up during the performance well. I didn't expect an _American Idol_ winner to be so nervous, but I guess it was her first performance since she won."

Kurt slid the fruit platter across the table to Taylor, offering her some as he popped a grape into his mouth. "I think she was just worried about meeting everyone's expectations. She recovered well from it and it's obvious how talented she is from her performance anyway."

Taylor smiled and thanked him as she helped herself to some fruit. "Yeah, and everything else went smoothly so it's all good." She bit into a strawberry. "Just so you're aware, we are in final negotiations with Taylor Swift's manager about getting her on the show soon. It looks like she'll be appearing in about a month."

"That's good, it's been a while since she was last on so we'll have a fair amount to talk about."

"Are you all prepared for tomorrow's show?" she asked. "We have that musician Blaine Anderson on and he'll be performing his latest single, and we also have that child actor-"

Kurt stopped listening after she mentioned Blaine Anderson.

He loved Blaine's music and had been to several of his shows when he had performed in the area. Blaine was extremely talented – he could sing, play several instruments, and wrote all his own music – and very attractive. So attractive, in fact, that Kurt wondered how many of his female teenage fans only bought into his music because of his looks. He just hoped he wouldn't turn into a replica of one of those blushing, stammering teenage girls when he met Blaine tomorrow.

He suddenly noticed that Taylor was looking at him expectantly, obviously awaiting an answer to a question he hadn't heard her ask. "Sorry," he said a little sheepishly, "what was that?"

Taylor looked at him strangely and Kurt knew what she was thinking; he was normally always on the ball with everything to do with his show.

"I was wondering if you are coming to the studio earlier tomorrow for Blaine's performance rehearsal?" she repeated.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I think I will."

Taylor eyed him for a moment, a slight frown on her face. "Right, well, I'll see you tomorrow then," she said as she stood up.

Kurt called out a farewell as she left the room before heading over to the dressing table against the wall opposite the door and sitting down in front of the mirror. He examined the work of the hair and make-up team critically, tugging at a lock of his hair.

He had done his hair the same way every day since he had been in high school – stylishly coiffed – only occasionally changing it, but he wondered if he should do something different with it tomorrow. He turned his head this way and that to examine his face from all angles, checking his make-up for flaws until he realised he was being ridiculous and stopped. He couldn't change the way he did his hair and make-up just because Blaine was coming on his show. Sure, Blaine might be attractive and gay, but that didn't mean he should suddenly change the way he had done things for years and go all out to try and impress him.

He fidgeted with the lapel of his suit jacket as he remembered when he had found out that Blaine was gay. The musician had famously come-out to the public after making an offhand comment during an interview not long after he started becoming the chart-topping sensation he was now. The media had had a field day with it and Kurt was sure hundreds of teenage girls' hearts had been crushed, but Blaine didn't seem to see what the big fuss was all about. He said that being gay was just another part of him, like his curly hair and hazel eyes. He didn't see why people should be writing articles about it or constantly asking him about it in interviews. Yes, he was out and proud and happy with who he was and had been since his early years in high school, but that didn't mean he thought he should be making money off of interviews about it or that it was a worthy big news story. However, Blaine was a big supporter of organisations such as The Trevor Project and was more than happy to talk about subjects relating to that during interviews.

Seeing Blaine come out and managing to have it all blow over in under a month and get through it all with minimal homophobic slurs thrown his way gave Kurt the courage to come-out publicly himself. During an interview on the red carpet of the Emmy's he was asked about his relationship with Broadway star Rachel Berry, who was his guest for the event and had been for many others and rumours that they were dating had surfaced several times. He had told the interviewer that Rachel was just his best friend and roommate and, mimicking Blaine, casually added that he was gay to the end of his reply.

He was able to get away with less media attention than Blaine had received. This was due to having considerably less teenage female fans, following Blaine's lead, and a few rumours about him having already floated around, mostly stemming from his outfit choices.

He dropped his eyes from his reflection, smoothing out his jacket. He always picked out his own outfits and had never wanted a stylist. So, he wouldn't change his hair or make-up, but he _would_ put extra effort into picking out his outfit for the show tomorrow. It was probably silly doing so; even though he and Blaine were both gay and around the same age, it didn't mean anything was likely to happen between them.

'Still,' he thought, getting to his feet and preparing to leave, 'I don't want Blaine to see me looking anything less than my best.'

* * *

Blaine drummed his fingers on the armrest on the car door as he watched buildings creep slowly by through the blacked-out windows. The car came to a stop again, presumably at yet another stop light, and Blaine sighed. Diverting he eyes from the window, he let his head fall back against the headrest and allowed his thoughts to drift to the show he was appearing on today.

Despite the show being extremely popular and himself being a chart-topping artist, this was the first time he had ever been on it, having missed previous opportunities due to his busy touring schedule. It was annoying since this was the show he wanted to be on the most, even if the reasons behind this desire were silly, but Kurt Hummel was _very_ attractive and, from what he had heard, a very interesting and genuine person. Blaine had wanted to meet him for around a year now. He had come close on several occasions, one time being at a party here in New York City, but had always just missed out.

The car was moving again and after crawling through New York traffic for fifteen more minutes it turned into the studios. He hopped out of the car the second it stopped and waited impatiently for his manager Charlie to join him. Charlie came out of the car with his phone pressed to his ear, nodding along to whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying. He held his index finger up to Blaine, telling him to wait a moment, but Blaine just rolled his eyes and went and got his guitar out the trunk of his car.

He had just set his guitar case carefully down on the ground and was waiting for Charlie to finish his phone call when an assistant appeared and Charlie was forced to end the call. The assistant was there to show them where to go and Blaine followed him into the studio, his stomach now churning with nerves – not a familiar feeling for him.

He was shown into a dressing room and given the details of his rehearsal and the show later on and then the assistant left with Charlie to go talk to one of the show's producers.

Blaine tapped his fingers against the side of his guitar case as he looked around the dressing room, his stomach continuing to squeeze unpleasantly. Not wanting to stand around whilst his nerves made him feel progressively sicker, he picked up his guitar again and left the dressing room and headed for the stage to rehearse.

The familiar actions of playing his guitar and singing dampened down his nerves and he quickly forgot about where he was and why he had been so nervous in the first place. He had always enjoyed this: standing on an empty stage in a deserted room, playing some of his songs. In the early days of his career it had been his way of calming any pre-show nerves and he still found it relaxing and therapeutic. He finished the song, letting the final chord ring through the room until the sound faded; it was then that a voice spoke from behind him.

"You sound different than when you play on tour."

The voice was beautiful, melodic, higher than those of most males and despite never having heard it first-hand before, he recognised it immediately – Kurt Hummel.

He spun around to find Kurt standing near one of the doorways leading backstage. He was partly in shadow, but when Blaine faced him he stepped forward into the light on stage. He wasn't dressed for the show yet, instead wearing a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows underneath a navy waistcoat and paired with well-fitted jeans, but his hair was flawlessly swept up in his trademark style. Blaine simply gaped at him, his sudden appearance rendering him temporarily speechless.

"It's not a bad different," Kurt continued in the same musing tone, "you just sound more…I don't know, it's hard to explain. I want to say you sound more natural, but that doesn't sound right and it implies that you're putting on pretence when you know you have an audience which I know you're not." He shook his head and stepped towards Blaine, smiling. "Sorry, I'm drivelling." He held out his hand. "I'm Kurt Hummel."

Blaine snapped out of his stunned trance and shook Kurt's hand and returned his smile. "Blaine Anderson." Something Kurt had just said suddenly registered. "You've seen me play live before?"

Kurt nodded, his eyes flicking from Blaine's face to the deserted audience seating behind him and back again. "I've been to a few of your concerts," he said. "I'm a fan of your music."

"Oh." Blaine hadn't been excepting that. "Well I'm glad you like it," he said lamely.

Kurt just smiled at him, shifting his weight as he tugged at the bottom of his waistcoat. "You can go ahead and finish rehearsing and if you don't mind I'd like to watch. Like I said, I love seeing you perform and it's different here to how it is at a concert."

"I don't mind," Blaine said, turning back to face the empty audience seats and beginning to play again.

He thought he would struggle with playing, knowing that Kurt was watching him, but somehow he managed. Maybe it was knowing that Kurt liked his music and was enjoying listening to him play or maybe it was the fact that, despite being bumbling, blushing, and nervous around Kurt, there was something about the other man that made him want to just be himself around him – no forced smiles, no forged happiness, just Blaine.

He finished the song and Kurt applauded him. "That was great; I can't wait to hear it again later."

Blaine turned to smile at him. "Thanks."

There was a beeping of a cell phone and Kurt pulled his phone out the pocket of his jeans and peered at the screen. "Crap," he muttered, his thumbs rapidly typing out a response. He lowered his phone. "I'm late for getting ready for the show and I think you are too."

Blaine checked his watch and squinted slightly as he tried to remember what the assistant had told him earlier. "Yeah, I think I am."

"I'll see you later when we're doing the show." Kurt slowly turned to leave. "Thanks for letting me watch you rehearse."

"You're welcome," Blaine smiled at him, a little confused as to why Kurt was thanking him, it was _his _show.

With a small wave Kurt headed backstage and Blaine stood staring after him for a moment before remembering he was running late and hurried back to his dressing room to get ready for the show.

* * *

**A/N: **I quite like some of the fics where either Kurt or Blaine are famous, so this is my take on that sort of idea, I guess.

I tried to think of another name for Kurt's show, but nothing sounded right, so I'm just sticking with 'The Kurt Hummel Show'.

Not too sure how often this will be updated, but there will be at least one new chapter posted each week. My beta and I haven't got a system worked out yet and until we do I won't know if this will be updated once or twice a week.

Thank you to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

And thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

After giving his tie one last tweak, Kurt stepped out of his dressing room and headed down the corridor to the main stage entrance. Taylor was already waiting there, watching the last couple of audience members take their seats. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Kurt's approach.

"I've got to say, Kurt, I was a bit worried you wouldn't be ready on time when you showed up at your dressing room almost fifteen minutes late. What were you doing? You're never late."

Kurt leaned against the wall and watched one of the camera crew members adjust the position of his camera, hoping that studying this mundane task would keep his voice nonchalant. "I was just watching Blaine rehearse and lost track of time." He could feel Taylor's eyes on him but refused to look round.

"How did it go?"

Kurt, who was now replaying his conversation with Blaine in his head, trying to read more into it to try and gauge Blaine's opinion of him, replied absently, "It was fine."

He vaguely registered that Taylor was still watching him with a small frown on her face, but before she got the chance to say anything else it was time for the show to start and she had to hurry off to take her usual position. Kurt was forced to pay attention to the present when the normal opening announcement for the show was made and he was introduced. He walked out on stage, smiling at the cheering and applauding audience, and took up his position in the centre of the stage.

He went through his usual routine of the beginning of the show on autopilot, his brain disengaged from his mouth as his lips shaped the words he had rehearsed, his tone automatically light and cheerful, and his face schooled into a smile. He only became more animated when he announced Blaine as one of the day's guests, his heart leaping as the audience cheered excitedly. He announced his first guest, almost stumbling over one of his sentences as he gave a short description of the child actor's career but catching himself in time. He took his seat just as the young boy walked out onto the stage, beaming at the audience, overconfident and with the air of being pushed too hard too soon with his acting and of growing up too fast. Kurt went through the motions of pleasantly greeting the boy and indicating he should sit down before starting to discuss the boy's acting career with him.

Partway through the interview he realised he wasn't as focused as normal and he was barely taking in anything the young boy sitting across from him was saying. He kept covertly glancing at his watch to see how long it was until Blaine was due to come on. He forced himself to pay attention, to be Kurt Hummel: award-winning talk show host, instead of Kurt Hummel: fanboy with a crush.

He put more effort into the rest of the interview than he had ever done in his life. He kept his watch out of sight so he wasn't tempted to keep glancing at it and determinedly fixed his eyes on the young actor's face as he concentrated on every word coming out of the boy's mouth.

Finally, the interview was over and Kurt was announcing the release date of the boy's latest movie, speaking over the top of the applauding audience. The show cut to a commercial break and Kurt stood up, thanking the young actor for being on the show and wishing him all the best for his acting career. As the boy left the stage, Kurt collapsed back into his chair and grabbed the glass of water sitting on the table in front of him and took a sip. He felt a little drained, something he had never felt after an interview before, not even after he spent twenty minutes trying to get some sensible answers out of Paris Hilton. However, his slight weariness had nothing to do with the child he had just interviewed, but instead had everything to do with Blaine. Well, Blaine and his own incapability to get the attractive musician out of his mind.

Suddenly, the realisation that in a few minutes Blaine would be sitting in that chair opposite him and he would be interviewing him hit Kurt. His hands started to shake and sweat beaded up on his palms. He may have met and spoken to Blaine earlier, but that was different, there hadn't been any cameras pointed at them or an audience watching, nor were millions of people going to see that conversation. He hoped he wouldn't do anything embarrassing like blush when Blaine smiled at him or gape with his mouth hanging open as he performed. Though if he was being totally honest with himself, he was more worried about acting like an idiot in front of Blaine than he was about appearing a fool to millions of the show's viewers.

"Fifteen seconds," one of the producers warned him.

Kurt straightened up and set his glass back down on the table before adjusting his tie.

"Three, two, one…"

Kurt smiled at the cameras and the audience sitting beyond them. "Welcome back! My next guest shot to fame after the release of his first single, 'Human,' which held the coveted number one spot on the charts for four weeks. Since then he has released two number one albums, played several sold-out national and international tours, and won two Grammy awards. Please welcome, Blaine Anderson!"

The audience went wild; cheering, screaming, and clapping, the level of noise increasing when Blaine walked out onto the stage. He was neatly dressed in a white button-down shirt with a deep blue cardigan over it paired with black pants and his trademark bowtie – today's one midnight blue with silver trim. His hair was gelled down as usual, though a few curls always escaped whenever he performed. He grinned and gave a small wave to the audience as he crossed the stage, the smile widening when he reached the chairs in the centre of the stage and Kurt.

Kurt had stood up as Blaine had crossed the stage and he held out a hand to the other man. Their eyes met as they shook hands and Kurt had to drag his gaze away after a second, forcing himself not to get lost in Blaine's large, honey-coloured eyes, which were fringed by some of the longest eyelashes Kurt had ever seen on another guy.

They both sat down and Kurt inconspicuously took a deep, calming breath to try and settle his racing heart and trembling hands before he raised his head to face Blaine again. "It's great to finally have you on the show," he said to him once the audience had finally quietened down. "You've been too busy to come on until now."

Blaine nodded. "Yeah, the last few years have been insane. I've just been going between the studio, concert venues, and different events." He shifted slightly in his chair, grinning. "On a rare occasion I actually got to go home and sleep!"

The audience laughed and Kurt chuckled. "So, 'Human' was released two years ago and within a few weeks of its release it shot to number one in the charts and you gained yourself millions of fans."

"Yeah, it was crazy." Blaine shook his head slightly. "I recorded and released 'Human' during my final year of college after someone from the record label saw me perform at a small club here in New York and took an interest in me. I went from playing a mix of some of my originals and covers of my favourite songs in these little clubs to an audience of maybe around fifty people with less than half of them probably actually listening, to selling out Irving Plaza in a few short months. It was just all so surreal."

'I remember that show,' Kurt thought. It was back when his talk show was just starting to increase in popularity. He remembered standing in the crowds with Rachel and singing along as Blaine stood on stage behind a microphone, guitar in hand, and with sweat glistening on his face making a few wayward curls spring free of the gel. It was on the tip of his tongue to mention that he had been there, had watched Blaine play his first sold-out show at a big venue, but he swallowed the memory.

"And now you've got millions of fans following your every move," Kurt said instead. "Figuratively, hopefully."

Blaine laughed and Kurt's stomach fluttered at the sound, which was as beautifully melodic as the musician's songs. "A few of my fans are a little…uh, enthusiastic, but none of them are stalking me as far as I'm aware." He paused as the audience laughed again. "It took me ages to get used to people coming up to me and asking for a photograph or an autograph and to being recognised on the streets. But I am so appreciative of every single one of my fans, whether they have been with me since the beginning of my career or just started listening to my music yesterday, I thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support because if it weren't for all of you guys I wouldn't be where I am today."

The audience cheered and applauded whilst Kurt smiled at Blaine and the curly-haired man smiled at the audience members, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

When the noise died down again, Kurt shifted in his seat. "Your last national tour was completely sold-out and you packed venues across the country to the rafters with screaming fans. This must be like a dream for you. Do you wake up some days and wonder how all of this is happening?"

Blaine nodded. "It's just crazy. I never even imagined something of this magnitude happening to me, that I would have to add extra dates to the tour because tickets were just selling out so fast."

He shook his head and lifted his hands, palms facing up to the ceiling in a gesture of disbelief. "It does just feel like some wild roller-coaster dream some days."

"And your new single came out this week." Kurt leaned forward to swipe the CD off the table.

"It did!"

Kurt held the CD up to the audience and the cameras, and the studio audience cheered again. "So what's the story behind it?"

"It's called 'Ignorance' and it's about my struggles with bullies when I was in high school. It's a fighting song though – calling the bullies out for what they are doing, staying strong, and having courage." Blaine's eyes were distant as he spoke, lost in the memories of his teenage years. "It's about fighting back against the people who try to put you down and who are prejudiced against you simply because of their ignorance. And I don't mean fighting back physically," he added, suddenly snapping out of the trance he was in, his eyes focusing upon Kurt once more. "I mean staying true to yourself and who you are because that can take a lot more courage than hitting someone." He paused for a moment and the studio was silent, everybody listening raptly to Blaine. "One thing I really regret is not standing up for myself. I let the bullies chase me away and I moved schools after struggling with them for months. I hope this song will help people who are fighting with what I did – or with anything in life really, where people are telling them 'no, you can't do that,' or 'no, you shouldn't be like that.'" Blaine ended his speech with a small smile and the audience applauded his words.

Kurt stared at Blaine; his words had hit him a lot closer to home than Blaine probably realised. When the applause started to die down he mentally gave himself a small shake.

"And 'Ignorance' is the first single off your new album, which will be released on July twentieth."

Blaine smiled at him. "Yup, next month."

"And now you're going to perform your new single for us." Kurt set the CD back down on the table and turned to face the audience as Blaine stood up and headed over to the performance area where he had rehearsed earlier. Out the corner of his eye he could see Blaine picking up his guitar and his band members settling behind their instruments as he announced the name of Blaine's single, the album it was from, and that it was out now to purchase to the audience and the viewers. Then the lights dimmed and the song started.

Kurt tried to keep his eyes from going glassy and a dreamy look from slipping onto his face as he watched Blaine perform. It was hard, especially when the dark-haired musician shot him a lopsided smile and the briefest of winks during the guitar solo, but he managed not to melt into a puddle of goo and designer clothing on his chair. Only barely, but still, he managed.

* * *

Unscrewing the cap on a bottle of water, Blaine fell down onto the couch in the dressing room. He swallowed several large mouthfuls before there came a knock at the door. Getting to his feet again, he strode quickly across the room and pulled the door open to find Kurt on the other side.

"Hi!" Blaine smiled at him and stepped aside to let Kurt into the room whilst internally cringing at how he had practically squeaked out the greeting.

Kurt stood near the low table by the couch, looking a little stiff in spite of the friendly smile on his face. "I just wanted to thank you again for coming on the show and to say that your performance was great. I can see that song being another hit."

"Thanks," Blaine told him sincerely. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, wanting to say something to the other man, but unable to think of anything smart or funny enough.

Kurt looked a little unsure himself and was subconsciously nibbling on his bottom lip in a way that had Blaine averting his eyes.

"Well, I had better get going, my assistant will be looking for me," Kurt said, looking like he had wanted to say something else instead.

"Yeah, ok. Thanks for having me on the show today, I enjoyed it; I'll definitely be coming back, if you'll have me."

Kurt's smile widened and his eyes met Blaine's, their blue irises flecked with green and grey. "Of course, you'll always be welcome back."

There was a slightly awkward pause during which they stared at each other, both wanting to say something but neither exactly sure what that something was. Blaine fought with the urge to ask Kurt for his phone number, knowing it would be a bit weird to ask for the personal number of the host of the talk show he had just appeared on. Just as he thought, 'to hell with it' and began to screw up the courage to ask for it anyway, Kurt said goodbye to him and started to walk over to the door. He paused with his hand on the door handle.

"It was nice meeting you, Blaine. I hope I get the chance to do so again."

"Me too," Blaine said, disappointment crashing around inside him as Kurt smiled at him once more and left the room.

* * *

**A/N: **All the songs mentioned in this story are songs I listen to, but I'm not necessarily meaning that they are the same song, I'm just borrowing the title. For example, I've mentioned 'Human' here, but Blaine's version is a little different to Darren's.

July 20th is the date Darren's Human EP was released and as the time of year worked out, I decided to make it the release date of Blaine's next album.

I meant to mention this in the last author's note: I am now cross-posting all of my stories on scarvesandcoffee under the same username, so if you prefer to use that website then you can :)

Huge thanks to my beta xBleedingBlackRosex :)

And thank you for reading and for all the reviews, alerts, and favourites! :)


	3. Chapter 3

The phone rang just as Blaine was tipping out the popcorn he had made to go with the movie he'd picked out to watch. He hurriedly dumped the last of the popcorn into the bowl and scrambled across the kitchen and out into the living room, where he began frantically searching for his phone amongst the papers and books on the coffee table. His phone stopped ringing and there were a few seconds of silence – bar the rustling of paper and scrabbling of fingers on the wooden table surface – before the phone started ringing again, loud and insistent and this time Blaine was able to identify where the noise was coming from.

Darting around the table, he began tossing aside cushions on the couch until his fingers closed around his cell phone. He jabbed the button to accept the call and, after glancing at the caller I.D., pressed the phone to his ear. "Hey, George, what's up?"

George played the drums for him on his records and at all his live performances. He had met the blonde-haired Floridian during his first year at NYU, along with most of the other members of the band, and they had been friends since.

"Blaine, I was just calling to see if you wanted to come out with me and a couple of other guys tonight. I figured you would want to relax a bit after spending the day rehearsing."

Blaine bit back a sigh and sat down on the couch. George was always trying to drag him along to some bar or club and while he enjoyed it occasionally, most nights he just wasn't in the mood – it wasn't really his sort of scene. Yes, they had spent most of today at Chelsea Piers rehearsing his performance for the Trevor Project Live event being held tomorrow night, but Blaine was envisioning a night on the couch watching movies, not going out to some club and getting drunk.

"I don't think so, sorry," Blaine said, already bracing himself for George to start wheedling and trying to persuade him to come. "I'm more in the mood for some couch-and-movie time tonight."

He could almost hear George's eyes rolling. "But that's _boring_, Blaine! Stop being so _boring_! Come out and have fun with us!"

"Not tonight, George, maybe some other time."

"That's what you always say," George protested. "Just a few drinks and then we'll leave. I promise not to force you into dancing again!"

"Tempting, but I'm still sticking with no."

George sighed heavily. "Fine."

Blaine suddenly felt guilty for turning down his friend's offers all the time. "I _am_ sorry, but I've been so busy promoting the new single lately that I just want a night in."

"No, it's fine," George assured him, "I understand. Maybe some other time. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, have fun tonight!"

After George had hung up he set his phone down on the coffee table and went back into the kitchen to get his popcorn. He scooped up the bowl, snagged a can of soda, and padded back through to the living room, shoving the DVD into the player before throwing himself down onto the couch with a contented sigh.

Around fifteen minutes into the movie a character called Kurt was introduced and Blaine found himself becoming distracted from the movie as he began thinking about Kurt Hummel. It had been almost a week since he had appeared on Kurt's show and not a day had gone by that he hadn't regretted not asking for the other man's phone number. He kept daydreaming about Kurt; his sparkling blue eyes and wide smile were tattooed on Blaine's brain and whenever he was relaxed, Kurt's face would appear in his mind's eye. He would give anything to see the talk show host again.

He shot up from where he had been sprawled on the couch into an upright position as a sudden thought occurred to him. Kurt was a big supporter of the Trevor Project as well; maybe he was going to the event tomorrow night.

Snatching up his phone from the table in front of him, he scrolled through his contacts and called his manager, Charlie.

"Charlie Robertson speaking."

"Charlie, the Trevor Project Live tomorrow night, do you know who else is attending?" Blaine fidgeted with a loose thread on the slightly frayed hem of the old Dalton t-shirt he was wearing. There was a pause at the other end of the line.

"I have the whole guest list here," Charlie said after a moment. "Do you want me to email it to you?"

"No, just read out some of the main guests attending." He didn't want to just ask if Kurt was on the list and make it obvious how much he wanted to see the other man again.

There was another, shorter pause and Blaine could tell Charlie was frowning right now, puzzled as to why Blaine wanted this information. "Neil Patrick Harris, David Burtka, Lady Gaga, Kurt Hummel, Jesse-"

"Ok, thanks," Blaine interrupted him, his stomach having given a small squeeze upon hearing Kurt's name. He gave a small cough. "I just wondered who some of the people speaking at the event would be."

"Right," Charlie said, not sounding totally convinced. "Is there anything else? Are you all set for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm all good for tomorrow and no, there's nothing else. Thanks, Charlie." He let the thread from his t-shirt slip through his fingers.

After Charlie had hung up – after letting him know once again what time he would be picked up tomorrow – Blaine once again set his phone down on the coffee table, this time with a smile on his face and a fluttering feeling of nervous anticipation. He was going to see Kurt tomorrow and he was determined to get his phone number.

* * *

The car rolled to a stop and Blaine tugged at the black bowtie he was wearing, a nervous gesture he was barely aware of. After smoothing out the jacket of his suit he climbed out the car and, with his personal assistant trailing along behind him like a shadow, he made his way towards the press line, towards the flashing cameras, shouting photographers, and eager reporters.

He scanned the attendees already scattered along the press line, posing for photographers or talking to the reporters, but he couldn't see Kurt anywhere. Several people behind the metal barriers separating the press from the event attendees were shouting his name. Turning towards the nearest reporter, he hitched a smile on his face and tried to focus on the questions he was asked and the replies coming out of his mouth, but he couldn't stop his gaze from wandering over the people crowding the press line or from checking every new arrival to see if they were Kurt.

He was posing for some photographs when Kurt arrived. The photographers calling his name and asking him to look in their direction and the bright flashes stinging his eyes from the cameras trained on him were forgotten when he saw Kurt and the smile on his face widened. Kurt looked stunning in his well-fitted suit, the dark grey of the material making his blue eyes stand out. His hair was swept up in its usual coif, the lights picking out blonde and chestnut streaks in his brown locks. Blaine was filled with the sudden urge to run down the line towards him, but restrained himself, forcing his eyes back to the photographers and the blinding flashes of their cameras.

Despite knowing that there was little chance he would get the opportunity to speak to Kurt before the event started, seeing as how they arrived so far apart from each other, he still couldn't help the tinge of disappointment he felt when they moved through into the large room the event was being held in without him having the chance to talk to the person he so desperately wanted to. They weren't seated at the same table either; Kurt was at a table a few over from the one Blaine was at. Blaine could only just see the back of his head if he leaned back in his chair, provided a tall woman in an emerald green dress wasn't sitting back in her chair when he looked – sometimes it sucked being shorter than the average male.

The event was enjoyable; the speakers were interesting and the performers all did a great job. Blaine was able to almost forget about Kurt as he watched, until Kurt came out on stage to do his part.

He listened raptly to everything Kurt said, leaning forward in his seat with an elbow on the table and his chin resting on his hand. It could have been a figment of Blaine's vivid imagination, but he was sure that at one point halfway through his speech, Kurt's eyes met his for the space of several heartbeats; he could feel the connection of their gazes as if it were something tangible and his heart accelerated at the feeling.

After Kurt finished his piece, Blaine stood up and left his table, followed by the members of his band, who had been sitting at the same table as him, to head backstage to prepare for his performance.

"Ready to rock this joint?" George asked, clapping him on the back once they had reached the small room where their instruments, bar the drums, were.

"I don't think you can use that expression when playing at a charity event," Blaine replied as he picked up his guitar and began automatically checking that it was in-tune.

George scratched under his chin with one of his drumsticks. "Sure you can." He watched as Blaine's fingers slipped off one of the tuning pegs and frowned. "You're not nervous, are you?"

Blaine shook his head, keeping his eyes on his guitar. "No, I'm fine."

This was the truth – he wasn't nervous. His body was just still thrumming with the aftereffects of his brief connection with Kurt; his hands were still shaking, his heart still racing, and he imagined his face was a little flushed.

George didn't look convinced by his answer, but before he got the chance to say anything else one of the assistants working backstage appeared to tell them that they were due onstage in a minute.

As they waited to go out, Blaine took the time to discreetly smooth out his clothes and make sure his gelled hair was sitting perfectly. His band did their usual pre-show activities: George attempting to twirl his drumsticks and only just avoiding dropping them or hitting someone, whilst everyone else chatted easily. Then they were called out and Blaine walked out onto the dim stage whilst his band hurried ahead of him to take their positions.

He tried not to look at Kurt as he performed, tried to keep his gaze from drifting over to the table where he knew Kurt was sitting. He tried, but he failed – multiple times.

Kurt's gaze was fixed on him every time he glanced in the young man's direction. The first few times Blaine looked in Kurt's direction he glanced away after only a split-second, his gaze skittering away to look in the opposite direction. As his performance went on and Kurt's gaze on him never wavered, he became more daring and allowed himself to meet and hold Kurt's eyes. Kurt was like a drug to him; the more he gave in to the pull he felt towards the blue-eyed man, the more he wanted to look over at him.

The song ended and the room filled with applause, but to Blaine it was empty of everyone but himself and Kurt. Their eyes met again as Kurt applauded him and Blaine felt a smile spread across his face which was answered with a nose-crinkling smile from Kurt.

* * *

Kurt wove his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for the short, dark-haired figure of Blaine. He had just managed to escape a long conversation with a couple of actresses – one of whom had recently been on his show – who had cornered him after the event had ended just as he had been about to shoot off and catch Blaine before the musician left his table. Blaine was nowhere to be seen around the table he had sat at now; the only people beside it were Blaine's bass player and a young brunette woman who appeared to be flirting with him.

He was nearing the far end of the room now where the crowds had thinned out to just a few small groups of people standing talking and Kurt still hadn't found Blaine. Just as he was beginning to worry that Blaine had already left, he caught a glimpse of hazel eyes, tanned skin, and gelled hair through a gap in a gathering of people. He walked quickly in the direction he had seen Blaine at a pace that was verging on a jog and then there was Blaine; he had his back to him as he said something to a woman in a blue dress who was just walking away from him. Kurt waited until the woman had turned away from him before he approached the shorter man.

"Blaine," he said and the musician turned, his eyes questioning until he saw Kurt and the pleasant smile on his face widened.

"Kurt, hi! I was hoping to get the chance to talk to you tonight."

Kurt's heart leapt. "Really?" He tried not to read too much into Blaine's words.

Blaine nodded. "Yeah, we always seem to miss each other at these events and after meeting you the other week I rea- I wanted to see you again." He tugged gently on the edge of his bowtie.

Blaine was making it difficult for Kurt to stop his mind from overanalysing his words and warping their meaning into what his heart wanted. He scuffed his foot along the floor. "Yeah, me too." He paused. "I really enjoyed your performance tonight," he said a little shyly, remembering the charged glances they had shared – blue eyes meeting hazel, the rest of the crowded room falling away until it was just the two of them. He was glad for the dim light, hoping it was enough to conceal his blush from Blaine.

Blaine let out a small cough. "Uh, thanks. I'm glad you still enjoyed it even after hearing the same song live not too long ago."

"I never get tired of hearing your music, I could listen to you sing for hours," Kurt said without thinking. He flushed when his brain caught up with his mouth. His hope that the light was too dim for his blush to be noticed turned out to be futile; the colour staining Blaine's cheeks was clearly noticeable.

A voice called Kurt's name and Blaine glanced in the direction it had come from, suddenly looking a little frantic. He pulled out his cell phone. "Here," he said, handing it to Kurt, "add your number and I'll call you sometime and we can meet up again in a less formal setting."

Kurt accepted the phone from him and typed his number in with shaking fingers before sending himself a text so he had Blaine's number on his own phone. "Maybe we could meet for coffee sometime?" he suggested as he handed Blaine his phone back.

Blaine smiled softly at him. "I'd like that."

The voice called Kurt's name again, sounding louder this time and Kurt held back a reluctant sigh. "I'd better go see what they want," he said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the voice.

"Yeah, ok, I'll call you," Blaine promised.

Kurt smiled and gave him a small wave before turning and walking towards whoever was shouting to him, his feet dragging with reluctance, but his heart light with a happiness that was almost giddy.

* * *

**A/N: **Chelsea Piers is where they are holding the NY Trevor Project event this year, so I decided to use it here.

Thank you to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Thanks for reading and for the reviews! I love hearing your thoughts on this :)


	4. Chapter 4

It was only a few days after Trevor Live that Blaine called him asking if he wanted to meet for coffee the next day at a small café that Blaine visited regularly. Kurt had agreed to the meeting without a second's thought and now he was walking along the street on which the coffee shop was located, on his way to meet Blaine. He could barely believe it; he hadn't really expected Blaine to call him like he had promised.

The street was less crowded than the main roads in the city; the road wasn't choked with the usual clog of taxis, buses, and cars, and there were fewer pedestrians on the sidewalk. Blaine had said that the coffee shop was small, but he hadn't anticipated how tiny it would be and he almost walked right passed it. It was a hole-in-the-wall café with only a few tables inside and a small service counter with a glass-fronted display of cookies and cakes. It was so small that Kurt could see Blaine sitting at a table in the far corner from outside the shop. After quickly checking his hair in his reflection in the window, he pushed open the door and entered, breathing in the warm, coffee-scented air that greeted him. Seeing that Blaine already had a coffee sitting in front of him, Kurt stepped up to the counter and got himself his usual coffee – a grande non-fat mocha – before joining him.

Blaine was bent over an open notebook covered in writing, some of which had been crossed out with annotations written in above. He was frowning slightly down at the page, unconsciously tapping the end of his pen gently against the corner of his mouth, but he looked up at the sound of Kurt's approach, the frown smoothing out and replaced with a smile.

"Hey, Kurt!" he greeted him cheerfully, setting his pen down. "I got here early so I was just working on a song."

Kurt set his coffee down on the table and slid into the chair opposite Blaine. "What's the song about? If you don't mind me asking." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Uncertainty," Blaine said, running a finger down the page of his notebook over his penned lyrics. "Not knowing quite where you stand and wanting to take the risk, but being too afraid to brave the plunge."

Kurt wrapped his hands around his coffee cup. "Sounds intriguing. I can't wait to hear the final product."

Blaine smiled, glancing up at him through lowered lashes. "I'll give you a preview once I've worked out all of the rough spots." He closed the notebook and slid it and his pen into the satchel that rested against the leg of his chair. "So how's the show going?"

Kurt shrugged, his thoughts clouded from the intense look Blaine was giving him. "It's fine, nothing too exciting has happened since you were on."

"Of course I was your most exciting guest," Blaine said, smirking. "How did you get into that line of business?" he asked, serious again.

"It was a bit of luck, really. When I was in high school I had dreams of attending NYADA and becoming a Broadway star, but I didn't get into the school. I was determined to come to New York though and I really wanted to do something in the entertainment industry. I ended up doing a degree in Fashion Design at Parsons, but I kept on the lookout for something to do with acting or singing or anything like that." He drummed his fingers on the lid of his coffee cup. "An opportunity came up to intern backstage at _The View_ and I ended up getting to do a small segment on the show. Someone in the business saw me and asked if I would be interested in doing my own show – I guess they thought I had a bit of a flair for it – and things just sort of blew up from there." He shook his head as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee. To this day he still couldn't quite believe that all of that had actually happened.

"I can see why they thought you would make a good talk show host. The interview with you was the most enjoyable one I have ever done and I'm not just saying that." Blaine smiled at him.

"Thanks," Kurt said a little bashfully – it was strange how shy he was around Blaine; he was never normally like this, even with guys he had had crushes on in the past. "You've already told me the story behind your rise to fame, so how about we talk about something other than our careers. Tell me something you haven't shared with a reporter or your fans before. After all, we're no longer just a talk show host and a celebrity guest, are we?"

Blaine's eyes were unreadable as he gazed steadily at Kurt across the small table and Kurt started to panic internally, worried that he was reading more into their relationship than Blaine was.

"No, we're becoming friends now, aren't we?" Blaine replied and a tiny part of Kurt cursed the other man for answering his question with a question, throwing the task of defining their relationship back onto his shoulders. Blaine fidgeted with his coffee cup and it hit him then that Blaine was just as shy and uncertain about this as he was.

"Friends," Kurt said firmly, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of Blaine's grin.

"I'm performing here in the city on Friday night and I was wondering if you would like to come to the show? You would be backstage and can watch the show from side stage." Blaine eyes searched his as he waited for an answer.

Kurt didn't keep him waiting long. "I'd love to!" he said enthusiastically.

Blaine smiled widely at him. "I'll let them know to expect you then."

* * *

When Kurt, humming cheerfully, let himself into his apartment, it was to find a tired-looking Rachel sitting on the couch with the script for her latest musical, which was still in rehearsals, in front of her. She glanced up at him briefly before returning her attention to her script. "Someone's awfully chipper," she commented, having managed to pick up on his good mood after only sparing him a second of her attention.

Kurt just shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide his smile by turning away to look out the window. "It's a nice day."

"You're not fooling me, Kurt Hummel," Rachel said, no longer poring over the script and giving him her full attention. "I've known you for years, I can tell when something's up. You've met someone, haven't you?" She peered at him keenly, her eyes bright. "A guy?" she probed.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Kurt countered. It was taking all his self-control to hold back a telling smirk.

Rachel never gave in easily. "What's his name?" she pressed.

Knowing she would continue to pester him until she got the answers she wanted, Kurt crossed the room to the couch with a sigh of surrender, though part of him was looking forward to being able to gush over Blaine with her to an extent. He flopped down next to her, scattering sheets of paper everywhere, but Rachel was too intent on him to care that a good portion of her script now lay on the floor.

"His name is Blaine," Kurt said carefully, reigning in his natural instinct to tell Rachel absolutely everything right down to every facial expression Blaine had ever made around him. He wanted to avoid revealing Blaine's full identity if he could. It wasn't that he didn't trust Rachel not to go blabbing to everyone, but he didn't want her freaking out over it all when he and Blaine had only met a few times and were barely friends.

Luckily, Rachel wanted more important questions answered than what his surname was. "What does he look like? Is he hot?"

Kurt blushed. "_Very_ hot." He could picture Blaine now, the way he had looked in the coffee shop earlier: dark curls escaping from his gel; lips curved upwards in a smile; large, golden eyes peering up at him through long eyelashes – his breath caught.

"He has dark curly hair, a gorgeous smile, tanned skin, and these beautiful hazel eyes that are almost golden." He smiled dreamily, still seeing Blaine rather than the apartment. "He's quite short, wears bowties a lot, and gels his hair down which makes him look younger than he is."

Rachel was watching him closely. "Oh, how old is he?"

"Twenty three, so only around a year younger than me." Not that Blaine had ever told him his age, that was just something that millions of people, both fans and non-fans of his, knew.

Then Rachel asked a tricky question. "Where did you two meet?"

"Oh, um-" He cast his mind around. It landed on the coffee shop meeting with Blaine a few hours ago. "In a coffee shop."

"When?" Rachel asked eagerly.

"A few weeks ago," he replied vaguely.

"And you saw him again today." It was a statement, not a question. "Was it a date?"

"No, we're just friends." He couldn't stop the sigh that escaped him. "I don't even know if he likes me that way."

Rachel's excitement had died down a little. She patted his knee. "He would have to be crazy not to." Seeing her script scattered all over the floor, she sighed and bent to pick it up, trying to reorganise it. "Clearly, _I _am crazy for putting up with you for all these years."

Kurt swatted his friend's arm as he crouched to help her. "What about me sticking with you through all the drama queen episodes and near-constant singing? What does that say about _my _sanity?"

Rachel stuck her tongue out at him. "You love me for it."

"I must do," Kurt replied with a grin as he began to help her put her script back into order.

* * *

Although the show was not due to start for another couple of hours, the backstage area was bustling. Lighting, sound, and music technology engineers hurried between the stage and backstage areas as they got the venue set up for Blaine's performance. Instead of sitting in the dressing room with his band like he usually did, Blaine was pacing a small stretch of floor near the door leading from the maze of backstage corridors through to the rest of the venue. It was relatively quiet here, with only the occasional crew member passing by, none of them sparing Blaine more than a split-second glance as they went about their jobs.

Despite being removed from all the hectic rush of the preparations for the show, Blaine was stressing, nervously fretting over whether Kurt would show up or not. He kept cycling through phases of 'What if he doesn't come? What if he doesn't like me and was only being polite all this time? Maybe it was obvious that I have a crush on him and he doesn't want to see me again because he's not interested in me' to relaxing and assuring himself 'No, he'll come, he was excited when I asked him and we had a great time when we had coffee together. He was interested in me, and not just famous musician Blaine, but the real, average guy Blaine. He said he had been hoping to run into me at Trevor Live. He will come.'

The door through to the rest of the venue opened and Blaine swung around halfway along the invisible path he had been pacing to find Kurt just stepping through the door. He looked amazing; dressed in tight jeans and a well-fitted shirt which clung to his chest in all the right ways and with his hair in a slightly messy coif. Blaine was almost drooling as the other man smiled at him. He couldn't form a coherent thought as Kurt greeted him and walked further away from the door and the first thought his brain managed to scramble together wasn't something he could say out loud.

"Y- You look nice," he eventually managed to stutter out.

Kurt blushed, glancing down at his outfit and brushing lint off his jeans. "Thanks, so do you," he said shyly.

To try and stop himself from staring at Kurt, he led the way through to the dressing rooms where his band sat talking amongst themselves and drinking some of the bottled water that had been placed on a table.

"These guys are my band," Blaine told Kurt as everyone in the room looked up and then came over to greet Kurt.

"Guys," Blaine said to the room at large, "this is my friend, Kurt."

They all shook Kurt's hand and introduced themselves. George was the last one to do so. "You're that talk show host, aren't you?" he asked once he'd shaken Kurt's hand. "You're Kurt Hummel."

Kurt nodded. "Guilty."

George glanced between Blaine and Kurt. "I didn't realise you and Blaine knew each other before Blaine was on your show."

"Oh no, we didn't, we only met when he came on my show, but we saw each other at Trevor Live and have had coffee together since then."

George smiled at him and then the bass player – Seth – began asking Kurt about his show and they spent the next hour talking about Kurt's show, performing, and touring. A knock on the door came and one of the crew members appeared to inform them that they were due on stage in ten minutes, and the band hurried off to get ready.

Blaine stood up and held out a hand to pull Kurt to his feet. "Come on, I'll show you where you can stand to watch the show."

Kurt accepted his hand and got up from the couch. Blaine led him from the room and through the labyrinth of corridors backstage, not letting go of his hand. His nerves tingled and his heart thudded from the contact and it was with great reluctance that he let go when they reached a corridor that opened out onto the stage, from which there was an excellent view of the stage and part of the excited crowd beyond.

"I have to go and get ready," Blaine told Kurt, who turned his head from looking out over the crowd to face Blaine. The musician smiled at him. "Enjoy the show!"

He hurried off to meet up with his band, who were waiting to go out on stage. Adrenaline was already coursing through him from being with Kurt and he was pumped up and ready for the show.

"One minute," a crew member warned him as he jogged towards where he stood with his band. He grabbed his guitar and shot George a smile when he noticed the blonde man eyeing him. "I'm ready," he announced to no one in particular.

Stepping out onto the stage to a roaring crowd never failed to remind Blaine of why he loved performing and tonight was no exception. There was something special about sharing his music, of connecting with a large crowd of people who were all, for the duration of the show, united in their love of music. He winked at Kurt as he took his position behind the microphone and greeted the screaming crowd.

He threw himself into his performance and gradually felt unruly curls spring free of the gel, some of them clinging to his sweaty forehead. His face split into a huge smile every time he broke off singing and he encouraged the crowd to sing the lyrics instead, their voices rising in harmony, singing the words that he had written.

Throughout the show he kept glancing over at Kurt with a smile, often catching the other man singing along or bobbing along to the music. The sight made his stomach swoop.

* * *

"Thank you, New York City!" he shouted into the microphone at the end of the encore song. "Goodnight!"

He walked off the stage after one last wave at the crowd before the lights on stage went off.

"You were _amazing_!" Kurt enthused when Blaine reached him and handed his guitar to a tech guy who had just appeared.

"Thanks." He grinned at Kurt's hair, which was slightly more mussed than it had been before the show. "It looked like you were enjoying it as well."

Seeing where Blaine's eyes were focused, Kurt raised a hand to touch his hair. "Oh no," he groaned, "is it a mess?"

Blaine shook his head. "It's adorable." He started to lead the way back through to the dressing rooms. "Besides, I know my hair is a lot worse."

They reached Blaine's deserted dressing room. Kurt sat down on the couch whilst Blaine grabbed a bottle of water before joining him.

"Sorry," he said as he sat next to Kurt on the small couch, "I'm all sweaty."

"You look sexy sweaty."

Blaine looked up at Kurt in surprise, wondering if he had heard correctly. As Kurt's cheeks were rapidly staining pink and he was avoiding Blaine's eyes, he realised he obviously hadn't misheard. He felt heat flood to his own face.

"I- really?" he stammered out.

Kurt was now looking at him steadily, his face still pink, but resolute. "Yeah, normally I think of being sweaty as gross, but somehow you make it look attractive."

"You think I'm attractive?" Blaine asked in disbelief.

Kurt nodded. "Of course I do. Haven't you been called a heartthrob enough times to know that you are good looking?" His expression softened. "But it's not just your looks that are attractive, your personality is too: you're smart, funny, sweet, interesting to talk to…" He trailed off, smiling at him. It felt like his blue eyes were gazing right into Blaine's soul, into his very being.

"You're very attractive, Blaine," he said softly.

The space between them had lessened without Blaine noticing, he must have been unconsciously inching closer to Kurt whilst they talked. There were only a few inches between them now and Blaine could smell Kurt: cologne, hair and skin products, and something that was uniquely Kurt. He breathed out shakily and his eyes fluttered shut as the gap closed between them and their lips met.

It started slow and soft, Blaine reaching to gently cup Kurt's face with his hand and his thumb caressing his cheekbone lightly. And then Kurt's hands slid up to tangle in his curls and his mouth opened under the pressure of Kurt's. He groaned softly as Kurt's tongue slid against his own and he was pulled closer to the blue-eyed man. He could feel Kurt's rapid heartbeat through his shirt and the taste, smell, and feeling of him was sending Blaine's body into a whirlwind of sensation.

When they broke apart, they both stared at each other for a moment, breathing heavily and with flushed faces, before nearly identical smiles spread across their faces.

"I didn't get to return your compliment," Blaine said once he was able to speak. At Kurt's puzzled look he elaborated. "You said I was attractive. Well, I think you are beautiful; I've thought so since the first time I saw you."

The expression on Kurt's face changed and Blaine's breathing hitched under the look Kurt was giving him and his heartbeat – which had been beginning to slow down from its rapid pace – took off at top speed again as Kurt grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay for the kiss! It's a nice change to write a story where their romantic relationship starts in the first few chapters.

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews! I am really enjoying writing this (some days I just spend the whole day working on this story) and it's great knowing that so many of you are enjoying reading it as much as I love writing it :)

Thanks again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	5. Chapter 5

Dropping his keys on the small table just inside the door, Kurt nudged the apartment door closed with his foot. He sighed happily as he made his way slowly through to the living room. He had just come back from dinner with Blaine at a French restaurant – their first date since they got together after Blaine's show on Friday night. The evening had been perfect; conversation flowing easily as they discussed growing up in Ohio, music, and musicals. Kurt found himself falling a little more for Blaine every minute he spent in his company.

Rachel was in the living room, watching a movie of sorts on the TV. She had been in an extremely good mood lately; her rehearsals for her new musical were going well and she was feeling confident about the workshop performances which began in just over two weeks' time. She looked up from the TV when Kurt entered the room.

"Out with Blaine again?" she asked, her face all-knowing.

Kurt joined her on the couch, realising that now he was actually dating Blaine, he could no longer keep his full identity from her.

"Yeah, we went out for dinner at _La Grenouille_."

She looked at him keenly. "That's very romantic. Are you dating him now?"

"I am, actually." Kurt couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"And you're just telling me _now?_" she asked in mock outrage.

"We've only been dating two days," Kurt protested. He took a deep breath. "You know how I told you that I met him in a coffee shop?"

"Yeah." He could see her puzzling over in her mind about where this could be going.

"Well, that's not exactly true."

Rachel frowned at him. "What do you mean '_not exactly true'_?"

"I actually met Blaine several weeks ago at work; he was a guest on the show."

Rachel's eyes narrowed slightly as she thought over Kurt's words. "A guest on your show?" Kurt could almost see her mind going through the list of people she knew had been on his show lately. Her eyes widened. "You mean…?"

He swallowed. "The guy I've been spending so much time with lately, my boyfriend, is Blaine Anderson."

Rachel gaped openly at him. "Blaine Anderson, the musician? As in the guy we've been to see in concert several times? The guy whose albums we have right over there?" She pointed to where their CDs were neatly stacked on a shelf.

Kurt said nothing, just simply nodded.

"_Oh my God_," Rachel said slowly, emphasizing each syllable. She stared at him in shock as she lowered her arm. "Does your dad know?"

Kurt shook his head. "You're the first person to know – Blaine hasn't told anyone yet. It's still in its early days so I don't want to tell my dad yet. I'll tell him once we've been dating a little longer."

"So, you're keeping it a secret?" Rachel asked worriedly, her look of shock being replaced by one of concern.

Kurt blinked at her, slightly confused as to what the problem with that was. "Publicly? Yes. From our friends and family? No, we'll let them all know eventually."

Rachel still looked worried.

"I'll tell my dad and Carole once we've been dating longer than a few days and I know this isn't going to be a short, couple-of-dates thing, which I don't think it will be, but you can never know for certain," Kurt assured her. When Rachel's expression didn't change, he sighed. "Rachel, you know what it's like to be in the public eye when you're dating someone," he said, trying to keep the bite of exasperation he felt out of his tone. "Your last relationship ended because Mark couldn't handle the reporters and paparazzi anymore."

"Yes," Rachel sighed, "but that was different, Mark wasn't a famous talk show host or musician like you guys are," she said with the air of explaining the simple fact that two plus two equalled four.

"Exactly. Blaine and I are used to being photographed, questioned, and having speculative articles written about us, so we know how to handle it and what to say to reporters to brush them off and not give anything away about our personal lives."

Rachel bit her lip. "That's not what I meant. You and Blaine get a lot more attention than I do – Broadway stars are of less interest to the public than TV stars and musicians – and as you're both famous the slightest hint that you are dating will cause an avalanche of press and photographers to descend on you."

Kurt stared at his friend. He knew she was only trying to help and was just worried about him, but he and Blaine had discussed this, they could keep their personal lives to themselves and away from the public.

"What do you think we should do then?" he asked, merely humouring her and not really interested in what she had to say.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But you have to tell your family soon. You don't want them finding out about Blaine through some magazine or whatever and…" she trailed off, nibbling on her bottom lip. "Just be careful."

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea? I know it'll be a while until I can meet them in person, but what if your dad thinks I have a- a-" Blaine looked wildly around Kurt's room like the word he was searching for would be written on one of the walls, "a _shifty_ look and flies to New York and hunts me down?"

Kurt chuckled and wound his fingers through Blaine's, pulling him close and placing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "A 'shifty look,' Blaine – _really_? You charm everyone you meet with your dapper gentleman personality, why would my dad be any different? He'll love you, they both will."

Blaine didn't look convinced and sat down on Kurt's bed with folded arms and a curled-over posture, his eyes large and filled with anxiety as he worried on the inside of his cheek and bottom lip with his teeth.

Kurt joined him on the bed and fired up his laptop. "Stop worrying, it will be fine," he said soothingly. When Blaine didn't look particularly reassured, he pushed the laptop of his lap and shuffled closer to his boyfriend. "Come here." He put an arm around Blaine's shoulders and pulled the shorter man against him. Blaine fell against his chest, curling up against his side like a little child seeking comfort during a thunderstorm. "If you're getting this worked-up over meeting my family over Skype how bad would you be meeting them in person?" he asked lightly, trying to ease Blaine's nerves.

When Blaine did nothing other than wrap his arms a little tighter around his waist, he said, "Blaine, look at me."

Slowly, Blaine tilted his head back to meet Kurt's eyes.

"They'll love you," Kurt said firmly. "All they want is for me to be happy and if they know you make me happy then they will like you." He bent down until his lips were centimetres from Blaine's ear. "And you make me happier than I have been in years," he said softly, with conviction. He pressed a kiss to the soft skin below Blaine's ear then another on his lips before reaching for his laptop and tugging it towards him.

Blaine sat up a little, still staying pressed against Kurt's side. "I'm just worried that your family won't like that my life is under public scrutiny and I practically live in a fish bowl. I'm worried that they won't think I'm good for you," he finished in a small voice.

Kurt's mind flashed back to his conversation with Rachel almost a week ago; he pushed the memory away. "We talked about this remember? I have it almost as bad as you with the paparazzi and the media, but we can keep our relationship out of all that, other people manage in our situation. Unfortunately, we'll just have to be careful when we're out in public and with what we say to people." He adjusted Blaine's bowtie with a fond smile.

"You're right," Blaine said with a small smile. "I'm being stupid and overreacting, I'm sorry."

Kurt patted Blaine's cheek. "You _are_ being silly. Lucky you've got me to stop you doing stupid things all the time, isn't it?"

Blaine laughed. "I don't know how I managed without you." His tone was serious behind the light, joking nature of his words.

Kurt smiled at him and was about to return the sentiment when his laptop interrupted the moment by informing him that someone was trying to connect with him on Skype.

"I'll talk to them first and tell them about you and then you can join me on camera, ok?"

At Blaine's nod, Kurt reluctantly moved away from his boyfriend and accepted the Skype request.

"Hey, Dad, Carole!" he greeted his father and step-mother when they appeared on the screen.

"How are you, honey?" Carole asked.

"I'm great, work is going well and no, I haven't been working too hard," he added, knowing his dad always wanted to make sure he wasn't overexerting himself. "How is everything in Lima? How's the garage going?"

"Everything is fine here, kid, you know Lima, things don't change much around here," Burt replied.

"Too right they don't," Kurt muttered under his breath. Out the corner of his eye he saw Blaine shoot him a questioning look. He smiled at his dad and Carole as they asked how Rachel was.

"She's good," Kurt replied. "Her new musical starts workshop shows next week and she says rehearsals have been going well and she feels confident."

"That's good to hear," Burt said sincerely. "Tell her we wish her all the best and that we'll come up to New York to visit you both and see the show once it has opened."

"Will do," Kurt promised. He glanced fleetingly over at Blaine who was watching him. "I have some news actually – it's good news," he hastened to assure them when he noticed a small frown line appearing between his dad's eyebrows, "great news, actually. I have a boyfriend; we've been dating for around a week now." Despite his earlier reassurances to Blaine, he felt just as awkward and nervous announcing this to his family as he had done back when he was in his first year of college and telling them about his first boyfriend.

Carole looked delighted. "That is great news! What's his name? Where did you meet?"

Kurt smiled at her. "His name is Blaine," he told her, flashing Blaine a quick smile as he did so. "We met when he came on my show a few weeks ago."

Burt wasn't as thrilled as Carole was. "On your show? What is he, an assistant or something?"

Kurt opened his mouth, and then closed it again, glancing briefly over at Blaine – who was looking worried again – before saying, "He was a guest on the show actually. Blaine is a musician."

"A musician?" Burt's expression was difficult to read. "Like a pop star?"

Kurt licked his dry lips. "He plays guitar and sings. He writes all his own music. You might have heard of him, actually, his full name is Blaine Anderson."

Carole started to speak, but Burt cut her off. "Blaine Anderson," he repeated. "I've heard you mention him before. You have his CDs and been to see him perform live. He's that kid with the bowties."

Kurt avoided looking over at Blaine. "Uh, yeah, that's him."

"So, you're dating a celebrity?" Kurt was able to read his dad's expression now – it wasn't a pleased 'I'm happy for you, Kurt' one.

"_I'm_ considered a celebrity, Dad." He could feel Blaine shifting uncomfortably on the bed. "And don't judge him just on the fact that he's famous. He's smart, funny, caring, sweet, and he makes me happy." He swallowed. "I really like him, Dad. He's not like anyone I've ever met before, he's…" he trailed off, unable to find the words.

"He's with you just now, isn't he?" Carole asked gently.

"Ye- how did you know?"

She smiled at him. "You keep looking over to the left and I know it's not Rachel you're looking at."

He met Blaine's eyes, smiled, and waved him over. "Yes, he's here, so you can meet him – sort of."

Blaine slid over next to him and Kurt positioned the laptop so they could both be seen clearly by the webcam. Carole smiled and Burt stared at the screen intently.

"Hi, Mr and Mrs Hummel, it's a pleasure to meet you, albeit in an unconventional way." Blaine smiled politely at Burt and Carole, but his body was tense. Kurt took Blaine's hand and squeezed it.

Carole smiled at him. "It's nice to meet you, too."

Burt was eyeing Blaine critically, as if taking the musician's measurements. "You treating my boy right?" he finally asked bluntly.

"_Dad!_" Kurt hissed.

"I am," Blaine assured him, managing to keep his voice composed and sincere despite the death-grip he had on Kurt's hand. "Trust me, sir I would never hurt your son, I really care about him."

Kurt smiled at his boyfriend, the grin widening when Blaine turned his head to face him and their eyes met. When Kurt looked back at the laptop he found that his dad was still watching the pair of them closely, but his expression had softened into something that hinted at a smile.

"I believe you, Blaine, and I'm looking forward to meeting you in person," Burt said, nodding to Blaine – a nod that, to Kurt, signified his seal of approval. Blaine's grip on his hand loosened.

"We _both_ are," Carole added. She glanced down. "Sorry, we can't talk any longer; we really need to leave now if we want to get to D.C. in time."

"It's fine, a short Skype call is better than none," Kurt said.

"Let us know when you can next manage another one," Burt said. "I'll call you and let you know how the meeting in D.C. goes." His eyes flicked to Blaine. "It was nice meeting you, Blaine, I'm glad Kurt has someone taking care of him. I mean, he has Rachel as well, but as she can be a bit…Well, it's nice he has you."

Blaine smiled at Burt and Carole. "It was lovely to meet you both. I look forward to meeting you properly when you visit New York."

"You too, sweetie," Carole said with a smile.

"Take care now, Kurt, love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

Burt and Carole finished saying goodbye and then disconnected. Once Skype was closed, Blaine breathed out a sigh of relief.

"For a moment I thought you dad was going to forbid you from ever seeing me again."

Kurt rubbed Blaine's knuckles with his thumb. "Like he ever could," he said with a small smirk. He rested his head on Blaine's shoulder. "He's just quite protective of me – has been since my mom died – and doesn't want to see me get hurt. He likes you though, I told you he would, and Carole does as well."

"It was a close call though."

"No, it wasn't. Your dapper demeanour and beautiful smile charmed them just like I said." Kurt tilted his head to kiss Blaine's neck. "I think it's impossible for people to dislike you, you're just one of those people you can't help but like."

"I think you might be a bit biased," Blaine said quietly as he rested his head on top of Kurt's.

Kurt closed his eyes, revelling in being close to Blaine. "Maybe."

They sat in content silence for a few moments, until the sound of a door thudding shut and a voice calling out, "Kurt?" jolted them out of their serenity.

Kurt opened his eyes and lifted his head. "Rachel's home."

"Kurt?" Rachel's voice sounded closer.

"Coming, Rachel!" Kurt shouted in the direction of the bedroom door. He scrambled off the bed and grabbed Blaine's hand, tugging him to his feet. "Come on, you've met my dad and step-mom and now it's time for you to meet my roommate."

He led Blaine through to the bright kitchen where he found Rachel with her back to them, putting away some groceries in the fridge.

"Hey, Rachel." Kurt leant against the counter, keeping a hold of Blaine's hand.

Rachel shut the fridge door and glanced at him briefly. "Hey, can you help me put this stuff away?" She was halfway to the counter where the bags of groceries were when she did a double-take. "Oh," she said, her eyes wide as she spotted Blaine.

"Rachel, this is my boyfriend, Blaine. Blaine, this is my friend, Rachel."

Blaine dropped Kurt's hand and stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "Nice to meet you."

Rachel shook his hand. "Yeah, you too." Her eyes followed Blaine's hand as he entwined it with Kurt's again.

"I was just introducing Blaine to my dad and Carole over Skype," Kurt informed her.

Rachel was quickly losing her surprise at the sudden appearance of Blaine in their kitchen. "Oh, good," she said, turning back to the bags of groceries and unpacking food onto the counter with a pointed look at Kurt. "It was about time you did that."

Kurt reluctantly let go of Blaine's hand and picked up a couple of boxes of cereal. "Well, they loved him."

"I didn't think Mr. Hummel was going to like me at first." Blaine picked up a few jars and Kurt opened the cupboard where they belonged for him on his way back to collect more food to put away.

Rachel handed Kurt some cheese. "Yeah, Burt can be a bit protective sometimes." With all the groceries now put away she leaned against the counter. "So have you told _your _family, Blaine?"

Blaine fiddled with a tea towel folded by the sink. "I'm calling my mom tonight, so I'll tell her then."

Kurt looked at him worriedly as he shifted his weight uncomfortably and avoided the eyes of everyone in the room. Blaine hadn't told him much about his family, just that his older brother Cooper was a lawyer and that his parents still lived in the outskirts of Westerville in Ohio.

Rachel seemed to have noticed Blaine's reluctance to speak and changed the subject. "My new musical starts workshop performances on Tuesday night and I can get tickets for you both, if you want to come."

Blaine raised his head and met Kurt's eyes, smiling at him a little tightly. "I'm free that night."

"We'll be there," Kurt told Rachel.

Rachel smiled at them. "Great!" Her phone started ringing and she swiped it off the counter. "I'm just going to take this," she said, leaving the kitchen.

Kurt joined Blaine over by the sink. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but is everything ok with your family?"

"I don't have the closest relationships with my mom and dad. My dad has never been happy or comfortable with me being gay and since I came out to my parents when I was fourteen, he – after a couple of bonding sessions which he hoped would turn me straight – hasn't really had much to do with my life. He hardly talks to me, he stopped going to performances I did with the Warblers in high school, and the father-and-son time stopped." A small smile inched onto Blaine's face when Kurt took his hand and squeezed it gently. "I only ever talk to him whenever I go home and even then he doesn't have much to say to me."

The look on Blaine's face broke Kurt's heart. His forehead was creased and his lips were pressed together. Kurt knew if he could see Blaine's eyes he wouldn't be able to hold back tears – Blaine's eyes were large and expressive, and Kurt could always see his emotions in them. He rubbed the back of his boyfriend's hand with his thumb. Blaine looked so small and broken.

"What about your mom?" Kurt asked softly.

"She's a bit more accepting of who I am. She still isn't completely happy or comfortable with my sexuality though." He swallowed. "But we talk on the phone every so often, she's come to a few of my shows, and she spends more time with me when I'm at home than my dad does. She still doesn't treat me the same way as she did before she found out that I was gay, though. I know she considers me a disappointment."

"I'm so sorry, Blaine, I had no idea your family was like that."

Blaine finally looked at him and Kurt felt tears prick the backs of his eyes.

"It's ok, I don't talk about it much, and you're the first person I've told in years. But I'm used to it all now; I'm used to going on without my family."

Kurt let go of Blaine's hand and pulled the shorter man into a hug, tightening his hold on him when he felt Blaine nuzzle against his neck. "It's their loss that they don't see how talented, wonderful, and sweet you are, Blaine."

"Thank you," Blaine mumbled.

"For what?"

"For caring. Nobody has cared this much about me in years."

It took all of Kurt's control not to break down into tears. "Well, now you've got someone who cares about you a lot."

* * *

**A/N: **The restaurant Blaine takes Kurt to - _La Grenouille -_ is in Manhattan and I actually read through customer reviews of french restaurants in NYC to find one I thought was suitable.

I really like Blaine having a vulnerable side where he's small and Kurt protects him and you just want to cuddle him, so yes, you can expect a little more of that in this story. And this is my first time writing Blaine with family issues, so we'll see how that goes.

Also, sorry if you are a Finchel fan, because there's none of that here. It ended when Rachel went to NYADA and they never gave things another go (I can see it coming, Season 4).

Thanks for reading and for all the great reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	6. Chapter 6

Eighties rock music played softly in the background as Kurt slowly wandered up and down the narrow aisles of the small record store across the street from the building of the radio station for which Blaine was currently doing an interview and promotion of his new single. He and Blaine were going out for coffee after the interview and Kurt had chosen to wait for him in this store simply because it was empty except for a bored man in his thirties who was flicking through the latest issue of _Alternative Press_ behind the counter, and it had an excellent view of the radio station's building.

There was a crowd of paparazzi lurking outside the building waiting for Blaine to leave and even though Kurt was wearing sunglasses and a hat to conceal his identity and avoid being recognised, he still didn't want to risk waiting for Blaine outside.

He aimlessly browsed through the music, trailing a finger over CDs and vinyl records, occasionally pausing to examine an item of mild interest. He was almost at the end of another aisle when he heard a slight commotion outside. He looked up and was not surprised to see Blaine exiting the radio station's building. The people gathered around the doors were taking photographs and apparently asking questions because Blaine stopped a short distance from the doors to answer some.

Kurt returned his attention back to the display of CDs in front of him, knowing that Blaine would be a little while longer. He darted closer to the display when his eyes landed on Blaine's albums, his latest single 'Ignorance' displayed prominently. He picked up a copy of the single, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and flipped the CD over.

On the back was a picture of Blaine from a recent photo shoot. He smirked down at the image of Blaine posing with a guitar and dressed in jeans, a button-down shirt, and an untied bowtie. He was wearing less gel than usual and his hair was an attractive mess of rumpled curls. His heart skipped a beat – that was _his _boyfriend; the thought took his breath away.

Without thinking, he turned and walked up to the counter with Blaine's single still clutched in his hand and bought the CD. Just as he was handing over money to the gum-chewing man behind the counter, his phone buzzed in his pocket. After thanking the store worker when he was handed the CD in a small bag, he left the record store, pulling out his phone as he stepped out onto the street to find a text message from Blaine saying that he was waiting for him a few blocks away. He typed a quick reply before glancing across the street at the radio station's building. The people who had been clustered around the doors hoping to get the chance to question Blaine and get a few photos of him were gone.

He hurried down the street, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose when he stepped out from the shade of a tall building. He soon spotted Blaine leaning against the brick wall of a shoe store, now wearing, like Kurt was, sunglasses and a hat to hide his face and dark hair.

"Nice hat," Kurt said by way of greeting.

Blaine pulled at the peak of his flat cap, tugging it a little lower over his face. "What's wrong with it?"

Kurt just smiled and shook his head. "Nothing, it's adorable."

Blaine unhitched himself from the wall and they started walking down the street together towards one of Kurt's favourite coffee shops.

"What's in the bag?" Blaine asked, nodding at the small bag with the record store's name printed on it that Kurt was carrying.

Kurt swung it a little. "Oh, I bought a CD while I was waiting for you."

"Which one?" Blaine asked as they stopped to wait to cross the road.

For an answer, Kurt pulled the CD out of the bag and handed it to Blaine.

Blaine stared down at it for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise. "You _bought_ my single?"

The 'don't walk' sign changed and they crossed the road. Kurt smirked at his boyfriend. "That's a very fetching picture of you on the back."

Blaine flipped the CD over and wrinkled his nose. "You don't have to buy my music," he said, handing back the CD, "I'll sing for you any time you want."

"Even if I feel like listening to a song on repeat for an hour?"

"Even if you feel like listening to a song on repeat for an hour," Blaine confirmed.

They reached the small coffee shop, where Blaine insisted on paying for the coffee seeing as Kurt had already given him money today by buying his CD.

"Live versions of the song are usually better than studio versions anyway," Kurt said as they sat down at a table in a quiet corner. "And in the case of your music, the live versions are _always_ better, though you still sound amazing on the studio recording as well."

Blaine stirred his coffee. "You think so?" he asked contemplatively.

Kurt nodded, swallowing the mouthful of coffee he had just taken. "The live versions are more passionate, have more energy, and you can connect more with a live song than you can with one playing on a CD or an iPod."

"Well I'll be sure to sing to you regularly if you love it so much," Blaine promised with a smile. "As long as you promise to sing with me sometime, I haven't heard you sing yet and I'm dying to hear your voice."

"I promise."

Blaine smiled and leant across the table to place a chaste kiss on Kurt's cheek.

* * *

Blaine pushed the buzzer for Kurt and Rachel's apartment and Kurt answered a moment later, telling him the door was open and let him into the building. He crossed the foyer and jabbed the elevator call button, whistling softly as he waited for the elevator to arrive. When the doors slid open with a soft ding, he stepped inside and pushed the button for Kurt's floor. He gave his

appearance one last glance over in the elevator's mirrored walls as he rode it up, stepping out when it came to a halt on Kurt's floor.

He entered the apartment to find Kurt adjusting his tie in the mirror on the wall of the living room.

"You look beautiful, as always," Blaine told him, joining him in front of the mirror and giving him a quick kiss in greeting.

They both turned to look at the mirror, Blaine's reflection several inches shorter than Kurt's. Kurt tilted his head to the side. "We look pretty good together, don't we?" he observed, a joking undercurrent to his words.

"You look good, I don't know about me." Blaine smoothed a lock of hair that was threatening to spring free of the gel into a curl.

Kurt put his hands on his shoulders and spun him away from the mirror. "Shut up," he said mildly. "You're gorgeous."

"How's Rachel doing?" Blaine asked as Kurt slipped his cell phone into the pocket of his pants. "Is she nervous?"

Kurt shrugged. "I haven't seen much of her today, she was just leaving when I got up this morning, but she seemed confident last night." He shrugged again. "She'll be fine, if anything her problem is overconfidence rather than nerves." His phone rang. "That's probably the car here," he said, answering the call. "Hello?" He nodded at Blaine as the person on the other end of the line spoke and Blaine headed towards the door, Kurt following along behind him and ending the call after telling the person on the other end of the line that they were going down to the car now.

"I'm looking forward to tonight," Blaine told Kurt as they waited for the elevator. "It's been ages since I've seen a Broadway show and I've been wanting to hear Rachel sing ever since you first told me about her." They stepped into the elevator and Kurt pushed the button for the ground floor. "If she was given most of the solos in your high school glee club then she must be mind-blowingly good to have gotten them over you."

"You haven't heard me sing yet," Kurt reminded him. "I could be terrible."

"Impossible," Blaine said with such conviction that Kurt glanced over at him before shuffling over and wrapping his arms around him.

"Maybe I'll sing for you tonight after the show so you can find out for yourself," Kurt whispered, causing a shiver to run down Blaine's spine. His lips ghosted over Blaine's in a light kiss just as the elevator doors opened.

Kurt stepped back and started walking out of the elevator.

"Tease," Blaine grumbled and Kurt laughed without looking back at him.

* * *

They were at the theatre early, wanting to arrive before the other audience members – which included reviewers, press, friends and family of the cast, and some select celebrities – started arriving and there was a greater risk of paparazzi hanging around and of being roped into answering questions from the press.

They spent the time until they could enter the theatre to take their seats with Rachel in her dressing room. She was as confident as Kurt had predicted she would be, chattering non-stop about her character, the songs she would be singing, and how her heart-wrenching solo towards the end of the show would cause the entire audience to succumb to tears. She went on and on, oblivious to the increasing lack of interest of her audience.

Kurt grabbed Blaine's wrist and checked his watch. "Shouldn't you be off getting ready to start?" he asked, interrupting Rachel mid-flow. "Don't you have to warm-up your voice or anything?"

Rachel grabbed Blaine's wrist from Kurt, jerking Blaine forward almost out of his seat, and checked the time. "Shoot! I've got to go!" She dropped Blaine's hand, got to her feet and rushed to the door. "Why didn't you tell me the time earlier?" she complained.

Kurt rolled his eyes as the door slammed shut behind her. "Want to go take our seats?"

Blaine nodded and stood up, flexing his wrist experimentally. "Remind me to never be in the same room as Rachel before one of her shows. First, she almost bored me to tears with her in-depth analysis of the characters she's played so far and what show she could do next – and why is she thinking about her next show when this one hasn't even opened yet? – and then she almost dislocates my wrist."

"That's Rachel for you," Kurt said as they walked along the backstage corridors to the door leading through to the theatre.

"How have you put up with her for all these years? I mean, don't get me wrong, she's nice and all, but she's a bit…full-on."

Kurt led the way through the dimly lit theatre. "We didn't always get along as well as we do now, there was a time when I strongly disliked her."

They found their seats towards the front, which were in the same row as Rachel's dads, and family and friends of other cast members. The theatre was filled with an excited buzz of anticipation for the show. Kurt was sitting forward in his seat and leaning away from Blaine as he talked to Rachel's dads. He couldn't introduce them to Blaine as it would draw attention to Blaine being there with Kurt, so Blaine just sat quietly and enjoyed the atmosphere of being in a theatre full of people waiting to see a musical. He made a note to himself to try and make time to go and see a show every now and then – he had forgotten how much he loved this.

Soon the lights were dimmed further, Kurt was sitting back in his seat, and a hush filled the theatre as the show started. Rachel's performance as the female lead was every bit as beautifully portrayed and her final solo every bit as heart-wrenching as she had promised, and the show ended with a standing ovation. As Blaine applauded enthusiastically, he watched Rachel beam up at the audience from her position in the centre of the stage.

Kurt nudged Blaine when the lights were turned back up. "Let's go before we get cornered by someone."

They squeezed their way past everyone in their row, Kurt calling out a hurried goodbye to Rachel's dads as he passed them and apologising for not being able to stay longer due to having other engagements, before they exited through the door they had entered. Kurt once again led the way through the backstage corridors, making a quick call for a car to pick them up as he did so, and out a backdoor of the building.

"The car is on its way," Kurt told him as they leaned against the wall next to the theatre's backdoor. "It should be here in a few minutes."

Blaine looked over at his boyfriend. "Sorry you're having to rush away and sneak around like this and not getting to see Rachel and her family after the show."

Kurt reached for his hand, linking their fingers together. "I don't mind, Blaine, really. Sure, in the past I have stayed afterwards and discussed the show with Rachel and her dads and given my opinion to a few of the reporters, but sometimes I have left after giving Rachel a quick congratulations." He squeezed Blaine's hand. "Besides, you've never seen Rachel after a performance. You thought she was bad _before_ the show, that's nothing to how she is afterwards. She feels the need to give anyone who so much as _looks_ at her a blow-by-blow account of the entire show, including her critical analysis of the performance given by herself and the rest of the cast." He shook his head, but like he often did when talking about Rachel, he had a fond smile on his face.

"I guess I don't need to apologise then, you should be thanking me for saving you from having to listen to Rachel for hours."

Kurt laughed and Blaine smiled at him and, unable to help himself, leaned forward to kiss him. A car horn blared somewhere close by just before their lips met and they both jumped away from each other, suddenly remembering where they were.

"When we get back to my place," Kurt promised and a shiver ran through Blaine at his murmured words.

Kurt's phone rang just then and he answered the call, hanging up after a few seconds. "Car's here," he told Blaine and they moved away from the theatre, dropping each other's hands when they stepped out onto the street.

They walked briskly up to a black car with blacked-out windows, the driver opening the back door for them when they reached it, allowing Kurt to climb inside, closely followed by Blaine.

When the car pulled away from the curb, Kurt turned to Blaine. "You know what seeing that show has put me in the mood for?" he asked, the city's lights illuminating him from behind so that most of his face was in shadow, but Blaine could still see the sparkle of his eyes. "Singing."

Blaine stared at him, a hopeful smile spreading across his face. "You mean you'll sing for me tonight?" His voice rose excitedly.

Kurt laughed at him. "Yes, I will."

They talked about the show for the rest of the journey back to Kurt's apartment, Blaine willing the car to go faster as they steadily neared their destination.

Finally, they arrived and rode the elevator up to the apartment, Blaine immediately rushing over to the piano in the living room as soon as they entered.

"Someone's eager," Kurt observed as he joined Blaine. "I haven't really sung in years, so I'll be pretty rusty," he warned as he sat down next to him on the piano bench.

"I'm sure you'll sound beautiful." Blaine handed Kurt some sheet music so he could pick a song and watched as he riffled through the sheets until he selected one, handing it to him. "'As If We Never Said Goodbye'," he read off the top of the page, setting it on the music rack. He rested his fingers over the keys. "Do you want me to sing with you?"

Kurt eyed the music for a moment, before shaking his head. "No, it's ok. Just be prepared for me to not hit all of the notes."

Blaine said nothing to this, just started to play and, after a few bars of introduction, Kurt started to sing and Blaine almost gasped; Kurt's voice was even more beautiful than he had imagined, it was unlike anything he had ever heard before and despite Kurt's warnings that he was rusty, he managed to hit all the notes.

Kurt was breathing heavily by the time the song ended. "How did I sound?"

Instead of answering, Blaine surged forward and kissed him, tangling his fingers in Kurt's soft hair. Kurt moaned against his mouth, kissing back hungrily for a moment, before pulling back slightly. "I'm guessing I was good," he panted.

Blaine kissed him again, running his tongue along his bottom lip before slipping it into Kurt's mouth while Kurt's hands ran over his shoulders and down his chest. He moved his mouth to kiss and suck his way along Kurt's jaw and up to his ear; Kurt shivered when his breath ghosted over his skin "You were _amazing_; your voice is breath-taking." He nibbled at Kurt's earlobe, feeling the other man quiver.

"D- Do I get to-" He broke off with a soft groan as Blaine began to suck at the skin on a sensitive part of his neck. "Do I get to sing a duet with you?" he eventually managed to stammer out.

Blaine barely paid attention to what Kurt just asked, too busy concentrating on making Kurt whimper and moan as he sucked and licked at Kurt's neck, occasionally letting his teeth graze across the skin. It wasn't until he began kissing up Kurt's neck and his boyfriend pulled his head back up to meet his lips did Kurt's words finally register.

"You want to sing a duet?" he asked against Kurt's lips, an idea forming in his head.

"Yeah," Kurt replied breathlessly, his breath caressing Blaine's cheek.

Blaine shivered. "I promise we'll sing a duet together sometime," he murmured between kisses, "but you promised me kisses tonight."

"So I did," Kurt murmured, his nose brushing against Blaine's as he kissed him again.

* * *

**A/N: **Piano bench makeout!

I added a second genre of hurt/comfort to this story because of reasons.

Thanks for reading, for the alerts and favourites, and for all the lovely reviews! :)

And thanks once again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	7. Chapter 7

A beeping signalling that he was getting another call sounded over Kurt's laugh and Blaine grumbled in annoyance. "I'm going to have to go, Kurt, someone else is trying to call me."

"We've been talking for almost an hour anyway, I should go and get dinner started, Rachel will be home soon."

"I'll pick you up at six-thirty tomorrow night," he said just as the beeping stopped.

"See you then!" Kurt said cheerfully before hanging up.

Blaine checked his phone to see that whoever had been trying to call him had left a voicemail message. He pressed the button to listen to it, hoping it wasn't George inviting him out tonight. It turned out to be from Charlie, not George, and he sounded oddly subdued and serious as he asked Blaine to call him back as soon as he got the message. He scrolled through the contacts to Charlie's number and dialled it, still puzzling over the tone of Charlie's message.

"Blaine," Charlie answered his phone on the first ring, "you got my message, good."

"Yeah, what's the problem?" Blaine asked, frowning.

A heavy sigh came down the line. "Someone managed to get photos of you and Kurt leaving the theatre together the other night and they have been printed, along with some choice words, in numerous magazines and posted on several media websites."

Blaine gripped the phone tighter, numbness spreading through his body like poison. "What do the photos show?" he asked, slightly panicky as he had a sudden, vivid flashback to standing by the theatre's backdoor, holding Kurt's hand as he leant in to kiss him.

"Just you and Kurt walking up to the car and getting into it, but whoever took the pictures has been quoted claiming that you two had been 'getting cosy' while watching the show."

A small parcel of relief burst inside Blaine; at least the photos didn't show anything that couldn't be passed off as friendship. He and Kurt weren't ready to share their relationship with the world. "Well, whoever they are quoting is talking rubbish, because Kurt and I were not '_getting cosy'_." Now he was over the initial shock of learning about the photos, he could feel anger bubbling up inside him. Why did people feel the need to make up shit about him? Couldn't they just give him a bit of privacy for once?

"Blaine, you and this Kurt guy…" Charlie's tone was hesitant. "Are you- are you dating?"

"I-" Blaine felt himself blushing. "Yes, we are," he admitted, knowing there was no point in denying it.

There was a short pause on the other end of the line and then Charlie said, "I'm happy for you, kid, but I would advise you against going public with your relationship for the time being, although I think you've already decided not to do that anyway."

"Yeah, we have, we don't particularly want to share our relationship with the world."

"Ok, well you'll both just have to be careful while out in public. It sucks, but it's either that or be pestered constantly by paparazzi and reporters about something really personal." Charlie sounded apologetic. "Anyway, I'll let you go. I just wanted you to know about this so you can be prepared should anyone ask about it and you best make sure Kurt knows about this as well. They have nothing, so you can easily get away with saying you and Kurt are just friends."

Blaine nodded even though he knew his manager couldn't see him. "Thanks, Charlie."

"No problem, Blaine. Talk to you later."

When he hung up Blaine immediately dialled Kurt's number.

Kurt picked up after a few rings. "Missing me already?" he teased.

"Someone got pictures of us leaving Rachel's show together and they've been given to magazines and media websites along with false information hinting that we are dating," Blaine told him. There was no point in beating about the bush.

For a long moment there was silence except for the hum of the connection and the pounding of Blaine's heart.

"What?" Kurt eventually spluttered out. "How?"

Blaine shrugged and started to run a hand through his hair before dropping it back onto his lap when he remembered that that wasn't the best thing to do with gelled-down hair. "I don't know how they got them. My guess is it must have been luck that they spotted us." He tugged at the hem of his shirt in frustration. "All they have is speculation that we are maybe dating, but you just needed to know in case anyone mentioned it to you."

"Yeah, it doesn't matter, really," Kurt said. A loud clattering noise followed his words.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to make dinner," he replied. "It's hard when _someone_ keeps calling me though."

Blaine took the hint. "I'll let you get back to it then."

"See you tomorrow!"

* * *

Kurt sighed as he twirled slowly in front of the full length mirror in his dressing room, admiring his suit jacket and shirt. He had made both articles himself and had only just finished them last night, but not even how well they had turned out and how good they looked on him could lift his mood.

Blaine had left New York four days ago on a small national tour to promote his new album, which had been released the day before he left, and Kurt missed him already. As soon as Blaine had found out his finalized tour dates – along with when he would be doing interviews and album promotion for various magazines, radio shows, and TV shows – he had sat down with Kurt to see if he could join him at any point during the tour. To their disappointment, they were both too busy and their schedules clashed, so they were forced to settle with phone calls, texting, and Skype for the period Blaine was away – almost a month. Kurt knew that Blaine would have to go away for lengths of time touring both nationally and internationally, but that didn't make him feel any less depressed about it. What didn't help was that they had only been dating around a month and were still in that honeymoon stage of wanting to be with each other all the time.

He stopped appraising his outfit and stared at his reflection, his posture slumping further when he imagined Blaine standing next to him and saying the compliments about his outfit that he had told Kurt on Skype yesterday afternoon before he had to rush off to do sound check for his show that night. He raised a hand and tugged the collar of his shirt aside to reveal a deep purple and blue mark fading to yellow around the edges on his collarbone. He lightly traced a finger over the result of Blaine's goodbye, his pulse jumping and his lips curving up into a smile at the memory.

There was a knock on the door and he spun away from the mirror just as Taylor entered the room.

"Nice outfit," she said, nodding approvingly. "Is that the one you-" She broke off with a smirk. "Good thing your shirt covers that or you would get another lecture from the make-up team."

Kurt glanced down and blushed, tugging his shirt back into place so his collarbone was hidden again.

"Anyway," Taylor said, a smirk still playing about her lips, "I just came to check that you were ready. You've been cutting it a little fine these last couple of days."

"I'm ready," Kurt told her, assuring himself as much as he was assuring her. He really wasn't in the mood to do a show today, not when Blaine was currently in a hotel in Florida and they could be Skyping each other.

Rolling his shoulders back, he inhaled deeply and straightened his posture from miserable to upbeat and ready for the show, before following Taylor out into the corridor.

Ten minutes later he was on stage and welcoming both his studio audience and the viewers at home to the show with a cheerful smile on his face and enthusiasm in his voice. He managed to keep thoughts of Blaine and what he was doing right now out of his mind for the whole show – a feat he was proud of – and he doubted anyone watching would have guessed that his heart wasn't into the show as much as normal.

He paid for it when he got home, though. On top of missing Blaine so much that it hurt, he now felt guilty that his performance at work was slipping and that he wasn't enjoying it as much anymore. He was letting down his viewers, Taylor and the rest of his producers, all the crew who worked on the show, and the show's guests. He groaned as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the couch; he hated disappointing people. Sure, they might not be aware that he was letting them down yet, but the longer he went without seeing Blaine the worse he would become, and then they were bound to notice.

His phone rang, jolting him out of his gloomy thoughts. Wriggling around on the couch to pull it out of the pocket of the tight jeans he was wearing, his heart skipped – this was the time Blaine normally called on days he had a show. He glanced at the screen once he had finally managed to extract the phone and his face lit up in a smile at the name displayed on it.

"Hey, honey, how's Florida?"

"Disgustingly hot and humid," Blaine groaned and Kurt felt his bad mood evaporate at the sound of his boyfriend's voice. "Being outside is like walking through hot soup."

Kurt lifted his legs up onto the couch and curled up, leaning against the arm rest. "You're not outside too often though, are you?"

Blaine stifled a yawn. "Not really, but the venue I'm playing at tonight is an outdoor one."

Kurt made a sympathetic noise. "Just make sure you drink plenty of water."

Blaine chuckled and Kurt frowned – Blaine sounded a little off. "Ok, mom." Kurt heard him shuffling around on the other end of the line. "How's everything back in New York?"

"Fine, work is the same as always, Rachel's show is still going strong, although she did freak out yesterday when someone near us in a coffee shop started coughing. She insisted we moved to sit at the other side of the café and she took a bunch of vitamins when she got home, panicking that she would get ill and it would affect her voice." He rolled his eyes at the memory of Rachel's recent drama queen moment.

Blaine laughed again. "Sounds like typical Rachel. It doesn't really matter if she falls ill though, doesn't her understudy just take over her role until she's well again?"

"Yeah, but Rachel wants to avoid that _ever_ happening. She wants to be belting out her songs to an awestruck audience at every show and she hates the thought of someone else stealing her spotlight. And I pity the poor soul who would have to listen to her rant and complain about being too ill to do a show."

"Wouldn't that be you seeing as you live together?"

Kurt suddenly realised what sounded off about Blaine. "Blaine, are you getting enough sleep?"

"What?" Blaine sounded startled by his question. "Yes, of course I am."

Kurt pressed the phone closer to his ear, his forehead creased with concern. "Are you sure? You sound tired."

"I'm sure, doing a tour like this isn't the most relaxing experience, but I'm fine."

"Ok," Kurt said slowly, still a little worried, but knowing there was no point in pressing the issue.

They talked until Blaine had to leave to go do his sound check.

"I'll Skype you tomorrow night around nine," Blaine said. "I only have an acoustic show and signing at a record store and an interview on a TV show tomorrow."

"Ok, I'll talk to you then."

"I miss you," Blaine said softly.

Kurt slumped back against the cushions. "I miss you, too."

They said their goodbyes and Kurt tossed his phone down on the couch, wondering how he was going to manage another three weeks without seeing Blaine.

* * *

Despite Blaine's assurances that he was getting enough sleep, Kurt became increasingly worried as the days went by. They continued to talk every day, sometimes only managing to squeeze in a brief phone call and several texts when they were both really busy, and so Kurt noticed Blaine's steadily increasing exhaustion. He sounded weary when they spoke on the phone and could often be heard stifling a yawn, and during their Skype calls Kurt could see the dark crescents beneath Blaine's bleary eyes and the pale tinge to his skin despite Blaine's attempts to hide them from him. Whenever Kurt voiced his concern about all of this Blaine would say firmly that he was fine and that he was just missing him. Kurt let it slide until one evening during a Skype call over two weeks into Blaine's tour, when he couldn't let him brush it off anymore. Blaine looked worse than ever: his shirt hung a little loosely on him which had Kurt worrying that he was losing weight, his eyes looked sunken and had lost most of their sparkle, he looked paler than ever, and he was slumped in his chair with his head resting on his hand as if he didn't have the strength to hold it up without support.

Kurt allowed him to chat about how things were going in Los Angeles, where he had arrived yesterday and would be spending the next four days, and to ask about his day before he brought up Blaine's appearance.

"That's it, Blaine I can't stand you passing it off as nothing anymore because you look absolutely terrible and I'm worried." He shook his head when Blaine opened his mouth to interrupt. "No, Blaine, you're exhausted and don't try and deny it."

Blaine stared at his computer screen for a moment before seeming to admit defeat. "Ok, I am a little tired, but it's nothing I can't handle, this tour is just particularly busy, that's all. I have a lot of early mornings and late nights with shows, but it will be easier now I'm in LA and not having to travel for hours."

Kurt watched his boyfriend with concern as he rubbed at one of his eyes with his hand. "Just promise me you'll get plenty of sleep and look after yourself." At Blaine's affirmation, he smiled and said jokingly, "Don't make me come out there and force you to sleep and eat a proper meal!"

"Now there's a good idea." Blaine smiled a little sadly.

Kurt sighed. "If I didn't have to work tomorrow I would be on the next flight out."

"I know you would," Blaine said softly.

Kurt heard a faint noise and Blaine glanced over his shoulder. "I have to go, we're having a tour family dinner tonight," he said, his tone and expression one of someone being forced to go live a nightmare, not go out to dinner.

Kurt forced a smile through his disappointment at not being able to talk to Blaine for longer. "At least I know you'll be eating tonight."

Blaine smiled at that. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Have fun tonight, I wish I could be there."

"Me too." He sighed heavily. "I miss you so much, Kurt."

"I miss you, too," Kurt told him, blinking back tears. He waved his hands at the computer in a shooing motion. "Now go out and enjoy yourself."

Blaine signed out and Kurt shut his laptop down, his throat thick with unshed tears. He missed his boyfriend so much it was a constant physical weight on his heart, like someone had encased it in lead.

He slouched through to the living room where Rachel was watching TV feeling completely and utterly miserable. He dropped down beside her on the couch and after sitting watching the TV in silence for a moment, Rachel spoke.

"Just go out to LA and visit him," she said without looking away from the screen.

"I can't, Rachel, I have work," he reminded her dully.

Now she turned to face him. "Not on the weekend you don't, so fly out on Friday after work."

"Don't think I haven't thought of that," he said, feeling a pang at the memory of a few seconds of mounting excitement at the thought that he might be able to join Blaine in LA for a couple of days until the realisation that it wouldn't be possible came crashing down. "Blaine has shows on both Friday and Saturday night as well as an interview and photoshoot with Teen Vogue on Saturday morning, so we wouldn't get much time together. Plus, I have my brunch meeting with my producers on Sunday morning."

"So cancel your meeting, it's not like you really need to have it, and stay in LA until Sunday night." She threw her hands in the air in frustration when he just blinked at her. "And as for Blaine being busy, isn't a little time with him better than nothing?" When Kurt still didn't react she sighed in exasperation and got to her feet before marching out the room.

She returned a short while later carrying her laptop, which she set down on the coffee table. Kurt watched with a detached curiosity as she switched it on. He honestly couldn't see it being worth it going to LA and he really didn't want to fly over there to end up spending the weekend stuck in a hotel whilst Blaine was busy and only getting to see him fleetingly; that would be worse torture than only being able to call or Skype him.

Rachel was on the internet now, searching plane tickets from New York to Los Angeles. When she pulled her credit card out of her purse and began to purchase one, Kurt sat up.

"Rachel-"

She shook her head and finished buying the ticket. "I'm sick of you moping around here; you're spending the weekend in LA with Blaine."

* * *

**A/N: **Paparazzi had to start appearing in this story sooner or later.

Huge thank you for reading, for following and favouriting, and for reviewing!

Thank you to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter will see Kurt joining Blaine in LA - yay!


	8. Chapter 8

Struggling to keep his heavy eyes open, Blaine dragged himself along the corridor to his hotel room. He was exhausted and could think of nothing else but the bed waiting for him in his room. The endless stream of shows and interviews he had to attend this tour were taking their toll on him; he hadn't been eating or sleeping much, but he just didn't have the time to; he was always rushing from one appointment to the next. He knew he was losing weight, he was living off the snacks he got whilst travelling or at show venues or in the dressing rooms of wherever he was doing an interview. When he finally got back to the tour bus or his hotel room he was always too exhausted to consider eating and would just collapse into bed and the small amount of free time he got he spent on the phone or Skype with Kurt. He knew he was worrying Kurt, but his tours weren't normally this strenuous and as it was only a short one he figured he could get away with it.

He thought he had been managing to keep Kurt from worrying too much, but apparently he hadn't and last night he had been forced to admit the truth of his well-being to him. He had kept exactly how bad it was from him though, how bone weary he was and how little he was eating, not wanting him to fret too much. He would be back in New York in less than a week; he could survive until then.

It took him several attempts to unlock the door with his card key, his stinging eyes making it difficult to work the lock. When he eventually got it unlocked he pushed the door open with a little difficulty, his muscles weak from lack of food and sleep. Letting the door swing shut behind him with a click of the automatic lock, he leant against the wall and closed his eyes.

"Blaine?" a voice said softly.

His eyes snapped open; sure he had imagined the voice.

Kurt was a few feet away, just getting up from where he had been sitting on the bed, his blue eyes wide and shining. Blaine blinked, sure he must be hallucinating in his exhaustion, or maybe he fell asleep against the wall, because there was no way Kurt was here in his hotel room; he was in New York.

Kurt took a hesitant step towards him, obviously a bit unsure with his reaction. Blaine raised a hand and pinched the inside of his left forearm, hard. A small burst of pain shot up his arm – he wasn't dreaming.

"Kurt?" he whispered, his voice full of wonder. He moved slowly away from the wall towards his boyfriend.

Kurt rushed at him, throwing his arms around him and crashing their lips together, kissing him desperately, frantically. Blaine pulled him closer, gripping his hips so hard he was probably leaving bruises, but Kurt didn't seem to care.

Kurt pressed himself closer against Blaine, his fingers tugging at his curls and Blaine groaned against his mouth.

"I missed you so much," Kurt gasped as Blaine moved his mouth to kiss hungrily down his neck. "I had to come see you." He let his head fall forward onto Blaine's shoulder as Blaine continued to suck at the sensitive skin of his throat.

Kurt raised his head and captured Blaine's mouth again.

"How long are you here for?" Blaine asked between kisses; desperate clashes of lips, tongue, and teeth.

"Until Sunday evening."

They made out for a little while longer, their kisses becoming less needy until Kurt eventually pulled away, smiling when Blaine whined and tried to follow his mouth. "As much as I'd love to do this for hours, you need to get some sleep, you look exhausted." He brushed curls back from Blaine's forehead, his eyes full of concern as he took in Blaine's appearance. "And don't you have to be up early tomorrow to go to Teen Vogue?"

Blaine sighed and rested his head against his boyfriend's shoulder, closing his eyes and nuzzling against his neck and breathing in Kurt's scent. Kurt's steady breathing and the feel of his fingers in his hair as he played with his curls, letting them slide through his fingers, began to lull him to sleep.

"Come on," Kurt murmured some time later, Blaine wasn't sure how long it had been, "let's get you to bed."

He was forced to lift his head when Kurt took his hand, tugging him over to the bed and tossing him the pair of sweatpants and the old Dalton t-shirt that were lying on it. He shuffled through to the bathroom to get changed and brush his teeth, coming out when he was done to find that Kurt had pulled back the covers on the bed. He crawled into bed gratefully, flopping down with a contented sigh.

With his eyes closed he held out a hand in the direction he knew Kurt was standing. "C'mere."

When Kurt's hand slid into his, he tugged him down onto the bed beside him, smiling at Kurt's squeak of surprise. He snuggled up beside him.

"I can't stay here, Blaine, you have to be up early and I have a room on the floor above."

"Just stay a little while," Blaine mumbled into Kurt's chest. He sighed happily when Kurt put an arm around his waist and held him close. "How did you get into my room?" he asked sleepily, a few minutes later.

"Charlie let me in." Kurt pressed a kiss to his temple. "Go to sleep, Blaine."

The last thing Blaine was aware of before he drifted off to sleep was Kurt's thumb softly caressing his jawline.

* * *

Once Blaine's breathing steadied into the slow, deep rhythm of sleep, Kurt brushed a kiss across his cheek and untangled himself from him carefully. He left the room silently and headed up to his own room, feeling pretty tired himself.

He hurried through his moisturising routine and then got into bed, curling up under the blankets and shivering a little, wishing he was still lying next to Blaine. But at least he was here instead of in New York and would get to see Blaine tomorrow. Smiling at the thought, he soon fell asleep.

* * *

Kurt didn't get to see Blaine until the afternoon the next day. His boyfriend had long since left for his photoshoot and interview with Teen Vogue when he woke up and he wasn't going to be finished until around two that afternoon.

Kurt spent the morning having breakfast at one of his favourite restaurants in LA before doing a bit of shopping. He was just heading back to the hotel with his purchases when he received a text from Blaine asking him where he was and that he had just arrived back at the hotel. After sending him a quick reply saying he would join him in his room in five minutes, Kurt dashed upstairs and dumped his shopping in his room before hurrying down to Blaine's room on the floor below. He knocked on the door and Blaine pulled it open almost immediately, his eyes lighting up when he saw Kurt.

He was still all done up from his photoshoot: hair styled with less gel than he would normally use so that his curls were merely tamed instead of plastered to his head, and he was wearing make-up. The downside of this was that Kurt couldn't tell how tired Blaine was, but as Blaine's eyes were bright and he seemed cheerful and full of energy as he invited Kurt along to his show that night, Kurt guessed the sleep last night had done Blaine good and he stopped worrying and scrutinizing him like a doctor examining a patient.

They talked about their mornings for a little while, Kurt describing the clothes he had bought and Blaine telling him about his interview, until it was time to leave for the venue of the night's show. Kurt understood why Blaine was so tired; he was hardly getting any time to relax.

Blaine was playing at the Hollywood Palladium that night. Kurt had been to a concert there last year when he had been in LA attending a benefit dinner and standing in the centre of the floor of the venue, looking up at the rows of seats rising around him while Blaine and his band did their sound check behind him, he couldn't believe how different the place looked to how it did when it was packed with thousands of screaming fans, as it would be in a few hours' time.

They had seen the long line already queuing up outside the venue behind metal barriers when they had driven up to the venue. It snaked down the length of the venue before twisting out of sight. Most of the fans appeared to be teenage girls and Kurt couldn't help but smirk as he thought about how jealous they would be if they knew about him and Blaine. It was a pretty childish thought, but Kurt couldn't help himself, he had been in their position just a few months ago, sighing wistfully as he listened to Blaine's music and drooling over pictures of him online.

"Kurt!"

The sound of Blaine calling his name snapped him out of his reverie and he spun around to face the stage, realising as he did so that the sound of instruments and Blaine singing small snippets of his songs had stopped.

"We're finished here," Blaine said from where he stood near the front lip of the stage, "and we're heading back to the dressing rooms. You might want to consider coming otherwise you'll get run over by a stampede."

Kurt began walking towards him. "Yeah, I don't particularly fancy being killed by a mob of screaming fangirls."

They spent the time until the show was due to start hanging out in one of the larger dressing rooms with Blaine's band, who were pleased to see Kurt again and happily told him stories from the tour so far. Kurt was glad to see Blaine eating some of the snacks laid out on a table – he was sure his boyfriend had lost a little weight, but at least he was eating.

Seth was in the middle of a story about the other night's tour family dinner when one of the assistants poked their head into the room and told them that they were due on stage in a few minutes. The band hurried out the room, Seth grumbling a little about not getting to finish his story, and Kurt and Blaine followed slowly.

When they reached where the others were gathered waiting – George attempting to twirl his drumsticks, the others adjusting the straps of their guitars – Blaine grabbed his guitar and Kurt gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping aside to let his boyfriend and his band walk out onto the stage to the appreciative roars of the crowd. He then found a spot to stand and watch at the side of the stage.

He loved the show and especially enjoyed hearing a couple of songs from Blaine's latest record that he had never heard live before. Like the first time he had watched Blaine perform from side stage, Blaine regularly glanced over at him with a smile or a wink, and every time he did the memory of their first kiss – Blaine's skin hot and sweaty beneath his fingers, his curls springing free from the gel, and his lips tasting slightly of salt – came flooding back to him, making his breath catch and heat flood through him.

By the end of the show Kurt's ears were almost throbbing from all the screaming and, judging from the way locks of it fell over his forehead, his hair was a mess. Blaine bounded off the stage and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Great show," Kurt told him as they made their way back to the dressing room, "even that girl yelling at you to marry her didn't ruin the mood during 'Human'."

Blaine pushed open the door to the dressing room and grabbed a couple of bottles of water off the table, offering one to Kurt. "Yeah, they always choose inappropriate moments to yell inappropriate things, but they're just excited and I guess they know they wouldn't be heard during the more upbeat, energetic songs." He took a long swallow of water, reaching up to brush back a lock of hair that had fallen over Kurt's eye.

"I kept remembering our first kiss while I was watching you perform."

Blaine grinned mischievously at him and set his water bottle down on the table. "Really?" he asked in a low voice. He moved towards Kurt, who shivered when his breath caressed his face.

Kurt bent to kiss him, his hands sliding up Blaine's arms. Their lips had barely touched when the door burst open and the band came flooding into the room.

"Whoops, sorry, guys!" George said as Kurt and Blaine jumped apart as though they had received an electric shock. "Seth doesn't understand the concept of knocking."

The dark-haired bass player in question shot George a glare before turning to smile apologetically at Kurt and Blaine who were gathering their things together, both pink in the face. "I _am_ sorry, guys. I didn't realise you were back here already."

"It's fine," Kurt assured him with a friendly smile.

Blaine headed outside to sign some autographs for the dozens of fans hanging around hopefully while Kurt stayed inside to help George, Seth, and the rest of the band pack away their instruments.

Blaine retuned after half an hour and they headed back to the hotel not long afterwards, Blaine yawning every now and then during the journey.

Kurt walked Blaine to his room and tried to protest when his boyfriend pleaded with him to come inside.

"Fine," he said, giving in after a single _please_ and a second of the puppy-dog eyes, "give me your room's card key and I'll go and grab my stuff and come back."

Blaine gave him a radiant smile and kissed his cheek before handing him the key to his room.

Kurt rushed upstairs to his room and dashed around it, snatching up his midnight blue silk pyjamas and fetching his toothbrush from the bathroom. He eyed his array of skin creams for a moment, before deciding to skip his moisturising routine – one night without it wouldn't do him any harm – and then he dashed back downstairs, almost slipping on the steps in his hurry.

He slowed to a walk when he neared Blaine's door and saw a couple of people walking further down the corridor. He let himself into Blaine's room, trying to act casual as the people stopped outside a room a few doors down and began to fumble for their card key.

The sound of running water and Blaine's soft humming filled the room and Kurt bit his lip when he realised that Blaine was in the shower. He sat down on the bed to wait for him to finish, singing Broadway songs in his head to try and stop himself from picturing what Blaine looked like at that very moment.

The shower finally switched off and Blaine padded into the room a few minutes later wearing the same t-shirt and sweatpants that he had slept in last night and with his damp curls clinging to his steam-flushed skin. Kurt couldn't control himself; he jumped to his feet and rushed over to him, covering the short distance between the bed and his boyfriend in a few strides, and kissed him, his lips ghosting over his still-warm-from-the-shower skin.

When he finally pulled away, Blaine's pupils were blown and his breathing was heavy.

"I'm just going to take a quick shower and get changed," Kurt told him, unable to resist giving him one last peck on his kiss-swollen lips before grabbing his pyjamas and toothbrush and stepping into the bathroom.

Blaine was already in bed when he came out and Kurt thought he was asleep until he opened his eyes and patted the space next to him.

Swallowing thickly, Kurt slid in next to him and Blaine rolled over to face him so their noses were inches apart. "Hi," Blaine breathed.

"Hi," he whispered back, smiling at the grin spreading across Blaine's face.

They gazed at each other for a moment, drinking in the sight and revelling in the closeness until Blaine shuffled even closer. "Cuddle me?"

Kurt moved until he was pressed against him and Blaine rolled over so his back was flush against Kurt's chest. He nuzzled against the back of Blaine's neck and wrapped an arm around his waist.

Blaine sighed in contentment. "Goodnight, Kurt," he whispered.

Kurt closed his eyes, happiness making his toes curl and his heart light. "Goodnight, Blaine."

* * *

When Blaine woke next morning, warm and comfortable and with the scent of Kurt filling his nostrils, he didn't want to move straight away. So he lay with his eyes still closed, listening to the sound of Kurt's deep, steady breathing and feeling his boyfriend's chest rising and falling with each breath.

Eventually the need to use the bathroom became too much to ignore and he opened his eyes to see Kurt lying facing him, his closed eyes fluttering slightly in his sleep. He looked so beautiful that Blaine just wanted to stay and watch him sleep, to wonder what he was dreaming and listen to his soft breathing. His bladder wasn't having it though and with a sigh he reluctantly untangled himself from Kurt's legs and arms and slid out of the warm bed before padding through to the bathroom.

He was just walking to the sink when the dizziness hit. He fought through it as he washed his hands, blinking rapidly as darkness slowly started to cloud his already fuzzy vision until he could barely see the sink anymore. Still fighting it, determined to make it pass, he exhaled deeply and stepped away from the sink to dry his hands on the fluffy, white towel hanging nearby.

He was almost blind as he walked across the bathroom towards the door through to the bedroom. He was within reaching distance of the door when the darkness consumed him.

* * *

**A/N: **I couldn't just have them being all cute in LA and no exciting stuff happening, could I? ;)

Thanks for reading and for all the reviews!

And thanks once again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	9. Chapter 9

Everything was dark. He didn't know where he was or what was happening to him, just that it was dark. His mind began to recover and he slowly became aware of other things bit-by-bit like a sheet being pulled off a painting, sections of scenery gradually coming into view until the whole image was revealed. The first thing he noticed was a loud ringing in his ears, as if he was recovering from being near a loud explosion; then he became aware of the position of his body, which was slumped against a cold, hard surface. His breath sawed out of him in short, gasping pants as he willed the darkness to recede so he could see again. He could feel his whole body quivering; he did not know whether he was shivering due to the cold sweat that covered him, collecting on his arms and face, or if the shaking was due to the weakness in his muscles.

Everything was still in darkness. He strained his eyes, willing something to come into focus – anything. He was becoming more aware of his surroundings now, the cool tiles beneath him – he must have fallen to the bathroom floor, but he didn't remember it happening – and he guessed the smooth surface he was propped up against was the side of the bath. The back of his head stung slightly. He must have hit it when he fell.

He didn't know how much longer he stayed there, fighting against the darkness with increasing panic building inside him the longer the blackness prevailed – it could have been merely seconds or it could have been minutes – but suddenly there were hands on him, he could feel them trembling against the skin of his forehead and arms.

The loud ringing in his ears began to ease and he could hear another sound, fading in and out like a radio slipping in and out of tune. He gasped out another breath, his body trembling uncontrollably, and suddenly he could hear properly again and the sound was identifiable as a panicked voice.

"Blaine, can you hear me? Blaine…"

He could hear the pounding of his racing heart, and his panting breath. His ears were still ringing slightly…

"Blaine," the voice sobbed.

There was a dull burning at the back of his head, he could feel the cold sweat on his arms and face, and everything was still dark…

"Please, Blaine, _please_…"

He wanted to respond to the voice – it sounded so frantic and terrified – but he couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but fight the darkness, will his blindness to lift…

"Answer the phone, _dammit_! Come on, Charlie…"

The complete darkness was suddenly interrupted. He could make out an outline that was gradually becoming sharper as if he were slowly approaching a distant light source. He fought harder, mentally pushing at the blackness, forcing it away. He blinked and the darkness lightened.

"Blaine…"

He blinked again; he could almost see something…

"Come round, Blaine please…"

Another blink; he could just make out the pale tiled floor – and was that the sink?

"_Please_…"

Kurt.

He knew that voice; he recognised the feeling of those hands on his skin. It was Kurt.

He fought harder, straining his mind and his eyes. He blinked again.

He was slumped on the bathroom floor against the side of the bath. Kurt was on his knees next to him, his face pale, panicked, and streaked with tears. His eyes were wide and filled with tears and worry, his hair was hanging messily over his forehead, and his hands were clutching desperately at one of Blaine's.

"Kurt…" Blaine whispered, still shaking and feeling a little confused.

"Oh, thank _God_!" More tears poured down Kurt's face as he bent over Blaine, their heads close together. "Please don't ever do that to me again."

Now that the darkness was gone, Blaine seemed to be recovering quickly. The ringing had almost faded, his heart rate slowed, the air was no longer leaving his lungs in shallow gasps, and the trembling lessened. "I think I fainted," he said, his voice weak and a little shaky.

Kurt straightened up. "You did." He shuffled closer to the bath so he was level with Blaine's head. "I think you may have hit your head, I heard a thump – no, don't move!" He placed a hand on Blaine's chest when he moved to lean forward and sit up straight. "Let me check it."

Kurt's hands were gentle as he tilted Blaine's head slightly so he could see the back of it. There was a muffled gasp. "Y- You've cut the back of your head on the edge of the bath," Kurt told him shakily. "There's a bit of blood." His fingers lightly moved his hair aside, ghosting over his scalp. "I don't think it's a deep cut, but it will need to be cleaned before I can tell if you need stitches." His hand dropped from Blaine's head and his eyes ran over him anxiously. "Do you think you can move if I help you?"

Blaine nodded and Kurt slid an arm around his back, under his shoulders, and another around his waist.

"Slowly," Kurt advised him.

Blaine staggered carefully to his feet, leaning heavily against Kurt. Kurt kicked the door open fully and guided him through to the bed where he sat him down.

Kurt peered into his eyes. "Are you ok? You don't feel dizzy again, do you?"

Blaine shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

Stroking back the curls that were stuck to his forehead with sweat, Kurt nodded, biting down on his lip as he surveyed Blaine's condition. "I'm going to get some antiseptic to clean your head with."

Blaine closed his eyes whilst Kurt began to rummage around in his bags for the small first aid kit he carried around when on tour in case he accidentally cut himself or got a blister. He still felt weak and he could quite happily have lain down and slept, but he resisted the urge and instead tried to slow his breathing. He opened his eyes when he heard Kurt's footsteps.

His boyfriend climbed onto the bed and sat down behind him. Blaine heard him opening a bottle and a plastic packet.

"This might sting a bit," Kurt warned as he gently parted aside the curls on the back of Blaine's head.

Sure enough, Blaine felt a light stinging where Kurt was lightly wiping with a piece of antiseptic-soaked cotton wool.

"The cut is fairly long," Kurt said after a short silence of cleaning his head, "but it isn't very deep. I don't think you'll need stitches or anything." He stopped cleaning the cut and ran his fingers through the curls at Blaine's neck. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

Blaine's eyelids were drooping slightly from the feeling of Kurt's fingers in his hair. "Better, still a little weak and shaky, but better as time passes."

"That's good." His hand stilled. "Wait," he said urgently, seeming to have been struck by a sudden thought, "I didn't check for a concussion or anything. Do you know what day it is? Where we are? You don't feel sick, do you?" Kurt's voice got higher and more frantic with each successive question.

"It's Sunday, we are in a hotel in LA, and no, I don't feel sick." He swivelled round to face his boyfriend who was sitting cross-legged on the bed behind him, his eyes still wide with worry and his fingers nervously fiddling with the cotton wool he had just used to clean Blaine's cut. "I'm fine, Kurt," he assured him.

Setting the cotton wool aside, Kurt uncrossed his legs and slid closer to him. He pressed a light kiss to Blaine's lips.

"I'm not going to break, Kurt, I'm not made of glass."

"I know," Kurt said and he kissed Blaine again, less gently this time, "you just really scared me."

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered.

Kurt rested his forehead against Blaine's, his blue eyes, flecked and swirled with greens and greys, gazed down into Blaine's; blue meeting hazel. "You have nothing to apologise for," he said softly. "You just need to look after yourself better. I know you've barely been sleeping or eating and I know you've been trying to hide that from me so I wouldn't worry, but look what happened today because of that. You were lucky, you could have hit your head harder and what if I hadn't been here? Nobody would have known anything had happened for hours." He raised his right hand and cupped Blaine's face with it. Blaine leant in to the touch.

"I'm going to go and get you something to eat and some water and you're going to promise me that you will never overwork and push yourself to this point again, ok?"

"Ok," Blaine murmured.

Kurt pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Good." He let his hand slip slowly from Blaine's face and then he climbed off the bed, crossing the room to the mini-fridge. He rummaged around inside it for a moment before emerging with a bottle of water and a handful of granola bars. He padded back over to the bed, unscrewing the cap on the bottle. He sat down beside Blaine and handed him the water.

"Thanks," Blaine said, accepting the bottle and taking a long swallow of water.

Kurt got to his feet again and Blaine made a noise of protest, his free hand reaching out and grabbing Kurt's wrist. "Don't leave me," he pleaded.

Kurt rubbed the hand around his wrist soothingly. "I'm not going to, I just need to call Charlie and let him know what happened. I couldn't reach him earlier." He picked up Blaine's cell phone from where it had been tossed on the bed earlier.

Blaine loosened his hold on Kurt's wrist. "Tell him not to panic and that I don't need to see a doctor."

Kurt glanced up from the phone and frowned at him. "He'll probably insist that you see one and I think it's a good idea that you do. You hit your head, Blaine."

Sighing, Blaine dropped his hand. "Fine, but can the doctor wait until later?"

"We'll see." Kurt dialled Charlie's number and pressed the phone to his ear, absently reaching out a hand and running his fingers through Blaine's curls. Blaine hummed his appreciation.

"Charlie, it's Kurt."

Blaine could hear the faint murmuring of Charlie's voice on the other end of the line.

"I'm fine," Kurt said, "but, Blaine-" He hesitated for half a second. "Blaine passed out and hit his head a short while ago," he said more firmly, apparently having decided to just get to the point.

More buzzing of Charlie's voice, the tone coming across as worried even from the little Blaine could hear.

"Yes, that was why-" Kurt began, but broke off when Charlie spoke again. His hand was still stroking Blaine's hair and despite the worried tenor of Charlie's voice and the aftermath of fainting and hitting his head, Blaine found himself relaxing.

"No, he's fine," Kurt assured Charlie, "I cleaned the cut on his head, it isn't deep and he says he feels ok." A pause in which Charlie spoke. "That's probably best. He says he doesn't want to see a doctor until later if he can."

Blaine let his eyes close as Kurt's fingers wound deeper into his hair, his fingernails lightly scratching his scalp.

"Ok, yeah, I will. Thanks, Charlie."

There was the sound of the phone being tossed on the bed and Kurt's hand was withdrawn from his head. He opened his eyes and bit back a whine of protest just as Kurt sat down beside him.

"Charlie said you have to see a doctor this afternoon – he'll text you the time – and he's going to cancel the radio show interview you were supposed to do today." Kurt picked up one of the granola bars from the small pile beside him and handed it to Blaine. "Eat this; you need some food in you."

He accepted the bar from him and ripped the wrapper open. "I could have still done that interview," he grumbled.

Kurt shook his head at him as he took a bite of the bar. "Honey, you need to rest. Look what happened to you because you've been working too hard. You need today off to sleep and have some time to just do nothing."

Blaine finished the granola bar and started on another. He ate it in silence whilst Kurt lightly traced abstract patterns along the back of his left hand and up along his forearm. He swallowed the last mouthful of his third bar and then said, "You don't have to hang around in here all day, you can go out shopping or something, I'll be fine by myself."

Kurt's hand stilled. "Don't be stupid," he said, his eyes meeting Blaine's. "I'm staying here with you."

When Blaine was done eating, Kurt scooped up all the empty wrappers and tossed them in the trash. "Do you want to take a nap?" he asked, standing in front of Blaine. "You must still be tired."

Blaine nodded and took hold of Kurt's outstretched hands. His boyfriend pulled him to his feet and led him up to the head of the bed before letting go of him so he could crawl under the blankets. "Join me?" Blaine stretched out a hand.

With a smile, Kurt slid in beside him, reaching out and pulling Blaine against him before Blaine had to move. Blaine curled up beside him, wrapping his arms around Kurt's slim waist and resting his head on his chest. One of Kurt's hands began stroking the curls back from Blaine's forehead and Blaine sighed contently.

"I love your hair," Kurt murmured after a minute or so, his fingers now running lightly through his hair, curls slipping between his fingers.

Blaine just hummed in response; too close to sleep to respond in any other way, He hugged Kurt a little tighter and let one of his legs slip in-between Kurt's. He thought he heard Kurt murmur something else, but sleep had him by then and he tumbled down into its cloudy depths.

* * *

When Kurt woke he was warm and comfortable and the last thing he felt like doing was moving, but from the strength and quantity of light filtering through the curtains into the room, he guessed it was mid-afternoon. A quick glance at the glowing red numbers of the digital alarm clock on the small wooden bedside cabinet confirmed that it was just after half past two.

Moving slowly so as not to disturb Blaine – who was still hugging his waist, though his head had tilted slightly so that his breath hit Kurt's neck in warm, gentle caresses – he fumbled for Blaine's phone which lay a little further down the bed where he had tossed it earlier. His fingers brushed the metal and plastic edge of the phone and he stretched a little further to reach it. Blaine mumbled indistinctly in his sleep and tightened his hold on Kurt. With a small huff of effort, Kurt grasped the phone and slid his hand back across the sheets to his chest and, after positioning the phone off to the side so he wasn't disturbing Blaine any, he checked to see if Charlie had texted about Blaine seeing a doctor yet.

There was a text; a doctor was coming to see Blaine at three thirty. Dropping the phone, he laid his hand on Blaine's head and lazily played with his hair. His boyfriend mumbled again and nuzzled against Kurt's collarbone. Kurt figured Blaine could sleep a little longer before he had to get up to see the doctor. Besides, Kurt couldn't bear to wake him, not with Blaine looking so peaceful and relaxed – the most relaxed Kurt had seen him look in weeks. So instead, Kurt laid there stroking and trailing his fingers through Blaine's dark curls and thinking about nothing in particular.

When the clock by the bed read quarter past three, Kurt pressed a kiss to Blaine's forehead and said quietly, "Time to wake up, honey."

Blaine just mumbled into his neck, his nose brushing the curve of Kurt's throat.

He smoothed a hand over Blaine's forehead, brushing the curls back from his head. "Nap time's over, Blaine."

The mumblings were louder this time, though no more coherent, and Blaine clutched at his waist, shifting a little so he could bury his head in the crook of Kurt's neck.

"Blaine…" Kurt said a little louder in a sing-song voice.

More muttering, but Kurt knew Blaine was awake now. "What was that?" he asked, looking down at the mess of curls by his shoulder.

Blaine lifted his head slightly. "Comfy, don't want to move." His voice was rough with sleep.

Kurt smiled fondly down at him. "I know, honey, but there's a doctor coming to check you over in ten minutes and you need to be awake for that."

"Yes, _awake_, but not out of bed," Blaine pointed out. "So I can just stay here." He nuzzled back against Kurt's neck.

Kurt pushed at his shoulder. "_You_ could, but I can't and I'd appreciate being able to get dressed before they come." He shoved at Blaine's shoulder again and this time his boyfriend let go of him and flopped down on his back with a loud groan of protest. Kurt slid out of bed and grabbed the clothes he had worn yesterday which were folded neatly on the chair pulled up to the small writing desk. He didn't like wearing the same outfit two days in a row, but he had no choice today. He crossed the room to the bathroom and had almost reached it when Blaine spoke.

"Well, this is no fun," he complained and Kurt glanced over his shoulder to see him sitting up and pushing the blankets back. With a smile, Kurt stepped into the bathroom, carefully averting his eyes from the bath.

When he emerged from the bathroom just over five minutes later – a record for him – he found Blaine had pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and was sitting on the bed eating a bag of chips.

"Want some?" he asked, holding the bag out to Kurt. "You must be hungry."

Kurt shook his head. "I'm fine; I'll order room service later."

Blaine tried to tempt him with chips a few more times, but still ended up finishing the bag himself as Kurt turned down all his offers. Blaine tossed the crumpled bag in the trash and then got to his feet. "I need to gel my hair."

Kurt grabbed his wrist, holding him back. "Your hair's fine, Blaine, and besides, it's only the doctor, you don't need to style your hair for them, and-" there was a knock at the door and Kurt shot a smile at his boyfriend- "you don't have time."

Kurt went to answer the door, leaving Blaine grumbling under his breath about something to do with Medusa. He waited out in the hallway while the doctor saw Blaine. He only had to wait around ten minutes and then the doctor was emerging from the room, giving Kurt a swift smile and a nod, before setting off down the corridor towards the bank of elevators. Kurt entered the room again to find Blaine sitting on the bed on the phone to who he presumed was Charlie. He waited until Blaine had hung up before asking what the doctor had said.

"I passed out because I was exhausted and hadn't eaten enough so my blood sugar was low. The cut on my head doesn't need any treatment," Blaine informed him. Seeing the look on Kurt's face, he said gently, "I'm fine, Kurt."

Kurt took his boyfriend's hand and gave it a brief squeeze. "Ok, but you need to eat a proper meal. What do you want from room service?"

"Whatever you're having."

Kurt scanned the menu. "I'll get you a burger or something; you've lost a bit of weight."

"Whatever, just hurry up and order it so you can come cuddle with me again."

Kurt picked up the phone. "A bit demanding, aren't we?" he observed.

"I hit my head this morning, I think I have the right to be," Blaine responded.

Kurt quickly placed the order for their food and then turned to face his boyfriend, who held out his arms, his eyes large and his lower lip jutting out in a pout.

"Didn't you cuddle with me enough this morning?" He tried to keep the same teasing tone to his voice, but it was hard with Blaine looking at him like that. He took a step closer to the bed and Blaine jumped forward, grabbing him round the waist and pulling him down on top of him on the bed, laughing at Kurt's squeak.

Blaine looked up at him and Kurt could feel Blaine's heart pounding in his chest. "Nope," Blaine grinned, pulling Kurt down to kiss him.

* * *

**A/N: **I can almost hear all the sighs of relief :)

The idea for Blaine passing out came to me when the exact thing that happened to Blaine happened to me last month. I have fairly low blood pressure and I didn't eat much the day before, so I passed out and cut my head open. I don't think that the first thing most people do after recovering enough to move after something like that is grab a notebook and pen and write the whole experience down to use in a story, but I never claimed to be like most people.

Anyways, there were lots of cuddle times in there to make up for it all.

Thanks for reading and for all the reviews!

And thanks again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	10. Chapter 10

"American Airlines flight 30 to New York now boarding."

The announcement rang through the small seating area where Kurt was perched uncomfortably in one of the hard airport chairs. Aside from a few small groups of people talking quietly and drinking coffee, and several other lone passengers dozing with their heads resting against pillars or the wall, Kurt was the only one sitting in this area. Three rows of the same hard chairs that Kurt was currently sitting on separated him from the closest of his fellow passengers, allowing him a bit of privacy to talk to Blaine on the phone.

As soon as the announcement ended, the coffee drinkers got wearily to their feet and shuffled over to the gate to hand their boarding passes to the attendant with an overly bright smile fixed to her face. They were closely followed by the dozing travellers who yawned and dragged their feet up to the stiff attendant.

Kurt sighed heavily and began blindly groping for his carry-on bag that he'd dumped on the chair next to him. He was at LAX airport for the last flight of the day to New York. He really didn't want to leave, especially after Blaine had fainted and hit his head that morning, but he had a show to film tomorrow. He knew that with this flight being so late and arriving in New York at eight tomorrow morning, and the time difference between here and New York, he would be exhausted at work, but he didn't care; Blaine was more important.

"They're boarding my flight, so I'd better go." His fingers closed around the strap of his bag and he gave it a sharp tug as he clambered to his feet.

"I should be getting to bed anyway," Blaine said, "we're travelling to San Francisco tomorrow."

Kurt stretched and his back cracked. He shot the airport chair he had just vacated a glare before hoisting his bag onto his shoulder and making his way slowly over to the gate. "At least you'll be back in New York in four days." He fumbled in the pocket of his bag for his boarding pass.

He could almost hear Blaine smiling. "Yeah, I can't wait. I love touring, but I miss being home and sleeping in my own bed, even more so now that I have you in New York. And I miss you a lot more than my bed and apartment."

"Good to know I mean more to you than your bed," Kurt teased, slowing his pace as he neared the attendant.

"Watch it, mister, or I'll re-think my list of things I miss most. You are now dangerously close to being overtaken by my bowtie collection."

Kurt let out a mock indignant snort. "Just remember that it is me who cuddles with you, not the bowties."

"How do you know that the bowties don't?"

"Are you cheating on me with those damn bowties, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt asked in mock horror, coming to a stop a few feet away from the attendant so he could finish his conversation.

"No…" Blaine replied innocently. He chuckled and grew serious again. "Anyway, I'll let you board your plane. Have a safe journey home."

"You remember what that doctor told you and get plenty of sleep and food. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"I will," Blaine promised. "Bye, Kurt," he said softly.

Kurt smiled. "Sweet dreams, Blaine."

He hung up and turned his phone off for the flight before shuffling over to the attendant and handing over his boarding pass, automatically thanking her when she passed it back to him and wished him a nice flight.

Hoisting his bag more securely onto his shoulder, he made his way along the air bridge to the aircraft, smiling and nodding at the flight attendants who greeted him and feeling relieved that they seemed to notice that he wasn't in the mood to chat about his show or anything.

After shoving his bag into the overhead compartment, he collapsed into his seat and stared out the small, oval window at the dark airport, lit up with the lights of vehicles moving around on the ground and a few lights on the building. He turned down the offer of a pre-flight beverage, preferring instead to keep staring out the window and watching the lights on the airport vehicles move around.

Despite Blaine's assurances that he would be careful to eat and sleep enough, Kurt still couldn't prevent the gnawing feeling of worry for his boyfriend from nibbling away at him, like a little rat chewing away incessantly at his insides. Rationally, he knew Blaine would be ok and would no longer run on lack of food and sleep and Kurt trusted him to follow the doctor's orders, but he couldn't help but worry; he supposed it was an aftereffect of seeing Blaine slumped unresponsive on the bathroom floor…

He shivered, pushing that memory to the back of his mind and blinking his eyes back into focus on the lights outside the plane. 'Blaine will be fine,' he told himself firmly. 'He knows now that he can't go days without enough food or sleep and there are only four more days left of his tour. He'll be fine.'

The lights on the buildings started sliding away from him and he kept his eyes fixed on late-night LAX out his window, tuning out the safety information – he had flown enough to know it all by heart. More lights came into view as the plane slowly taxied to the runway: lights lining the roads linking the runways and parking area for the aircraft, lights on an airplane that had just landed and was passing them on a road parallel to theirs, lights of Los Angeles beyond the airport.

Eventually the long rows of lights lining the runway came into view and as the plane began to steadily accelerate along it, the sound of the engines increasing to a roar, Kurt flopped back against his seat and waited for the plane to take-off. Once it was in the air, he leaned forward to look out the window again, watching the lights of LA spread out below them becoming smaller as they climbed higher. He swallowed to adjust to the change in pressure in the cabin as more and more of LA slid beneath them. Blaine was down there somewhere, probably lying in bed by now…

He slammed the blind on the window shut and let himself fall back against his seat, closing his eyes as the plane continued to climb steadily higher. He needed to try and get some sleep on this flight unless he wanted to look a wreck on his show tomorrow.

* * *

The dazzling light of the sun was muted somewhat by the tinted windows of the car, but the view of Manhattan out them did not look any less bright. The crowds of New Yorkers on the streets, looking pinned down under the heavy layer of humid air pressing on the city; the snarl of traffic choking the sizzling roads; the buildings and sidewalks cooking under the hot sun, heat rising into the sticky air in shimmering waves; none of this dampened Blaine's mood, despite his dislike of humid weather. He was only minutes away from Kurt's apartment, where he had persuaded his driver and Charlie – who had helped him load his bags into the car – to drop him off, arguing against their protests that Kurt was at work and he should go back to his own apartment to put his stuff away and rest first and could go round to see Kurt later once he was home from work. Blaine argued that he wanted to surprise Kurt as he had surprised him by showing up in his LA hotel room unannounced. Though Kurt knew he was coming home today, he wasn't expecting Blaine to be round at his apartment until later that day.

He had even got Rachel in on the surprise, asking her to leave a key with the doorman for him and getting her to agree to stay out of the apartment that night. She even went one step further and arranged to spend the night at one of her cast mates' apartment so he and Kurt would have the whole night alone.

He continued to gaze out the window, but the city views all but disappeared as he ran over his plan for what must have been the tenth time. Charlie had joked about how it was like he was proposing with the amount of planning and effort he was putting into this, but Blaine just wanted Kurt to be surprised.

_Dump his stuff in Rachel's room where it would be out of sight, go and buy any groceries he needed that weren't already in the apartment, start cooking dinner, set the table, shower and get changed, finish attending to the dinner, wait for Kurt to come home…_

Rachel had given him a time period for when Kurt generally came home and as she had told Kurt that she was cooking dinner for them that night, seeing as they hadn't eaten together in weeks now since they'd both been so busy, she was confident that Kurt would be home within that period. So all Blaine had to do was make sure he checked the time regularly and stuck to his schedule and he would be fine. Should be easy enough.

All his self-reassurances about the simplicity of carrying out his plans did little to ease the flutter of nerves that hit him the second the car pulled up at the curb outside Kurt's apartment building. He did his best to ignore them as he gathered his bags and entered the building, collecting the key from the doorman. He ran through his plan again on the ride up to Kurt's floor in the elevator, which helped ease the fluttering a bit, like how going over his lyrics in his head had calmed his nerves before his early performances as a signed musician.

He slid the key into the door of Kurt's apartment and there was a sudden leaping, swooping sensation in his stomach that overpowered what remained of his nerves – happiness; overwhelming, pure, giddy happiness mixed with a sense of longing. He envisioned himself using his own key to unlock the door to the apartment he shared with Kurt, home after a day in the studio recording or performing somewhere, to find Kurt glancing up at him with those bright blue eyes of his before hurrying over to welcome him home with a kiss. Blaine had never wanted anything so badly in his entire life.

The apartment was as tidy as Rachel had promised it would be. He hurried through to her room and dumped his bags and guitar case in the corner, resisting the urge to pause to examine the numerous playbills, scripts, and sheet music she had displayed on her wall and stacked on her dressing table – he didn't have time for that.

He headed into the kitchen, pulling the slightly crumpled grocery list from the pocket of his jeans and searching through the kitchen cupboards and fridge, making a note of what he needed to buy.

Out the apartment, down in the elevator, and out onto the humid streets, his shirt sticking to his back with sweat as he hurried towards the small grocery store further down the road. He felt little relief at being in the air conditioned comfort of the store, too busy frantically scouring the aisles for the food he needed. He did breathe a sigh of relief when he left the store a short while later with everything he needed. He checked his watch as he walked back to the apartment, taking little notice of the muggy air; he was doing ok for time.

He fell a little behind schedule whilst cooking the food. Cooking had never been on his list of skills and after almost messing up in the early stages of making a sauce, he decided to take things slowly, reading every instruction in the recipe three times before acting on it. By the time he had moved on to meticulously setting the table he was hot and sweaty with his hair in disarray and smudges of sauce and flour on his face and arms. But even though he looked a mess he didn't go shower until he was sure the table was set perfectly down to the finest details like the tablecloth being straight and wrinkle-free.

After showering and studiously ignoring the fact that Kurt washed in that same shower, he dressed carefully, wasting more time by debating over which bowtie to wear and he cursed his inability to just settle with the first one that matched his outfit when he had to rush through taming his hair with gel. Luckily, he had years of practice and managed to gel it down in record time.

He just had time to put the final touches to the meal when he heard the sound of a key in the lock. He looked around the kitchen frantically; he hadn't planned this part. Should he run out to greet Kurt? Wait for him to find him? Jump out from somewhere and shout surprise? Ruling out the latter straight away, he decided to just wait for Kurt to find him. That would be like Blaine's vision from earlier of the two of them living together – Kurt coming home from work to Blaine cooking a meal for him. He turned back to the stove, his heart racing and his ears straining to hear Kurt's approach.

"Rach, I hope whatever you're cooking is good because I'm starving!" Kurt's voice called through from in the living area.

Blaine swallowed as he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen door. They paused for a moment and Blaine guessed Kurt had spotted the neatly laid table. He imagined Kurt's face creasing slightly in puzzlement.

Suddenly, the kitchen door was pushed open. "Rachel, why are-?" Kurt broke off and Blaine, heart pounding, spun around to face him. "Blaine?" Kurt's voice was barely above a whisper.

Blaine couldn't think of anything to say, he was rendered temporarily speechless by the sight of his boyfriend standing a few feet in front of him in tight jeans and a fitted blue shirt that made his eyes stand out. He knew it had only been four days since he had last seen him, but that was four days too many. He didn't need to say anything, Kurt covered the short distance between them in two strides and threw himself at Blaine, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him.

"How did you get in here?" he asked, once they'd broken apart, reminding Blaine of when he had asked Kurt almost the exact same thing in the hotel room in LA.

"Rachel left a key with the doorman for me. I planned this whole thing with her."

Kurt pressed kisses to his mouth, his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose. "And here was me thinking I would only get to see you for a few hours tonight."

Blaine grinned at him. "Nope, you've got me for the whole night if you want. Rachel's staying over at a cast mate's place tonight."

His boyfriend stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, as if needing further confirmation of this. At Blaine's nod, he pulled him roughly against him, kissing him hungrily and pushing him backwards until Blaine was pressed up against the wall.

After a few minutes, Blaine pulled his mouth away. "_Wait!_ Wait, dinner's ready and I spent hours making it. We can do this later."

Kurt dropped his hands away from Blaine. "Fine," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "The food had better be good."

Blaine laughed and stepped around Kurt to get to the stove and began stirring the contents of saucepans and switched off the oven. When he glanced up from taking a tray of bread out of the oven to find Kurt watching him with a small smile and a soft expression, he waved a hand at him. "Go sit down and I'll bring the food through in a minute."

When Kurt left the room he quickly finished plating up the food before carrying it through to his neatly set table which Kurt was sitting at, admiring the crisply folded napkins and artfully arranged floral centrepiece with wide eyes as if he couldn't believe it was all real.

"I can't believe you went through this much effort for me," he said, his voice breathy with shock.

Blaine slid a plate of food down in front of him and set the bread down on the table. "You are worth every second of blood, sweat, and tears."

Kurt looked up from examining the food. "There was blood and tears?"

Blaine dropped down into his chair and smiled a little sheepishly at him. "I cut my finger slicing vegetables," he admitted, holding up his left hand to show a bandaged finger. "There weren't any tears though, but there was a lot of sweat." Kurt's eyes travelled the length of his chest that showed above the table before slowly returning to meet his gaze again and Blaine wasn't sure, but he may have licked his lips – it was hard to tell in the dim light.

And then Kurt's gaze was back on his plate. "The food looks amazing, Blaine! I didn't know you could cook."

Blaine shrugged modestly as he helped himself to some bread. "I don't really; I had to follow a recipe _very_ carefully to make this."

"Well, it's delicious," Kurt complimented as he cut into his chicken.

They talked about the last few days of Blaine's tour while they ate and Kurt filled Blaine in on the latest happenings on his show and in Rachel's life. Then Blaine cleared away the empty plates, refusing Kurt's protests that he wanted to help, and fetched the dessert, something that he was more nervous about than the main course as he wouldn't know if he had succeeded in making it properly until they started eating it.

It was with some apprehension that he set Kurt's dessert down in front of him before sliding into his own seat and picking up his spoon. He held his breath as he prodded gently as the surface of the chocolate sponge, and then, biting gently on his bottom lip, cut through the sponge with the spoon, silently cheering when rich, dark chocolate sauce poured out the tear in the sponge like lava out a volcano.

Across the table from him Kurt moaned loudly and Blaine's head snapped up. Kurt's eyes were closed as he slowly pulled the spoon out of his mouth, his expression one of utter bliss. "Oh my _God_, Blaine you have to make this _every day_." His eyes opened and met Blaine's across the table, the flickering candlelight making it look like he had dancing flecks of golden yellow in the blue of his eyes, like sunlight shimmering on the ocean. "I don't care if you followed a recipe for this or not, you _can_ cook." He scooped up another spoonful of the dessert and Blaine had to lower his gaze back to his own plate when Kurt let out another, quieter moan.

Kurt continued to praise the dessert as they finished their meal – Blaine concentrating hard on his plate to stop himself from focusing too much on the sounds his boyfriend had made when he had first tasted the dessert. This time when Blaine went to clear the plates away, Kurt didn't give him the chance to turn down his offer to help as he stacked the plates up and swept into the kitchen with them before Blaine got the chance to protest. He was back from the kitchen in no time and tugging Blaine over to the couch where he kissed him.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured, his lips inches from Blaine's, his pale fingers smoothing across his chest. "No guy has ever cooked dinner for me before."

Blaine exhaled softly. "Get used to it because I plan on doing it more often," he whispered and closed the space between their lips.

Kurt tasted like chocolate and Blaine couldn't get enough of him. He kept pressing closer, his hands roaming over Kurt's body – down his back, over the swell of his bicep, across his chest, along his jawline – as his lips and tongue explored Kurt's mouth.

Kurt turned his head to the side slightly, breathing heavily. "I love you," he whispered.

Blaine's heart leapt, his stomach swooped pleasantly, and his breathing hitched, and for a moment he was speechless, frozen in breath-taking wonder. "I love you, too," he said softly.

Kurt tilted his head back up to capture Blaine's lips again in a tender kiss. Blaine caressed the line of his jaw lovingly, his heart swelling with happiness. It felt as if someone had injected pure euphoria into his veins and the small part of his brain that wasn't floating in love and bliss thanked everyone who had organised his appearance on Kurt's show. Who knew how long it would have taken to find Kurt without them – if ever.

* * *

A strange, low buzzing interrupted Kurt's dreams and he frowned, burying his face into the back of Blaine's neck and letting the warmth and comfort tug him back down into sleep again. The buzzing started up again, lasting for a split second, before stopping for a slightly longer period and then buzzing again. He raised his head groggily, searching around for the source of the sound in annoyance. His gaze finally landed on Blaine's phone, which was vibrating on the nightstand by Blaine's side of the bed. Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of bed, trying not to disturb Blaine, and raced around to snatch up the phone, which buzzed in his hand. He peered down at the screen, not wanting to answer it if it wasn't a name he recognised; George was displayed on the screen.

He accepted the call. "Hi, George," he said quietly, moving away from the bed so as not to wake Blaine.

There was a short pause, then, "Um, hi? Is Blaine there?"

Hearing the puzzled tone of his voice, Kurt said, "George, it's Kurt."

"Oh, _oh_, hey, Kurt, I didn't recognise your voice," he apologised. "So, is Blaine there? I wanted to ask him something."

"He's asleep just now," Kurt told him. "Do you want me to-?"

There was a small groan from the bed. "Kurt?" Blaine said, his voice low and rough from sleep. "Who are you talking to?"

"Hold on a second, Blaine's awake," Kurt told George. He walked back to the bed and sat down beside Blaine. "George is on the phone, he wants to ask you something."

Blaine held out his hand for the phone, still looking half asleep and blinking away the vestiges of dreams. "'Sup, George?"

Kurt lay back down beside his boyfriend, lightly tracing abstract patterns over his bicep.

"Can't, George, sorry, Kurt and I are going out today; he has the day off work."

Kurt smiled and rolled over onto his side to face Blaine, pressing a kiss to his exposed collarbone.

"Nothing too exciting, just Central Park and coffee and just being with each other."

Kurt draped an arm over Blaine's waist and kissed the corner of his mouth as Blaine said 'bye' to George and hung up, leaning over to put his phone back on the nightstand.

"What was that about Central Park?" Kurt asked, snuggling closer to Blaine and placing open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

Blaine smiled at him, raising a hand and trailing his fingers lazily through Kurt's hair. "We've never been there as a couple, so I thought it would be nice to go for a walk there together."

"Sounds good to me," Kurt said, pausing in his kissing of Blaine's neck to speak. Blaine reached for him but he rolled away and climbed off the bed to go and shower.

"Kuuuurt…" Blaine whined.

He laughed as he stepped into the bathroom. "I thought you had big romantic plans to go for a walk in the park?" He chuckled again at Blaine's answering grumble before closing the bathroom door.

* * *

"This is nice," Kurt said with a soft, contented sigh.

Blaine smiled at him and gently swung their clasped hands.

After getting coffee – which was not really the best drink to have in the hot summer weather – they had come to Central Park and had been strolling around it since. It was another hot, humid day so the park was busy with families, tourists, couples, and groups of people outside enjoying the warm weather. This meant that Kurt and Blaine were once again wearing hats and sunglasses, though the park was so busy that hardly anyone glanced in their direction.

Blaine had spent a good ten minutes wondering aloud how Kurt could still wear tight jeans, a button-down shirt, and a waistcoat in this weather when he was feeling warm in pants that left his ankles exposed and a short-sleeved shirt. Kurt had to explain to him his love for wearing layers and the sacrifices one made for fashion. Blaine had listened intently, looking somewhat fascinated by this small insight into his mind and Kurt was reminded once again of why he loved him – not many people would be so genuinely interested in something that they weren't all that passionate about. Sure, Blaine was interested in fashion to a certain degree – he read Vogue, and didn't just throw on any old outfit – but he wasn't as passionate about it as Kurt was, yet he still listened to Kurt's detailed analysis and reasonings of outfits.

They were in a relatively quiet part of the park now where leafy trees cast dappled shade onto the path and the shouts and laughter of children were only heard distantly.

Blaine suddenly dropped his hand and slipped an arm around his waist, tugging him against his side. He turned his head to the side and pressed a light kiss to Kurt's neck. "You were too far away."

Kurt rubbed his boyfriend's sun-warmed back. "Can't have that."

"Nope," Blaine agreed, popping the p.

They rounded a curve in the path and suddenly, for the first time that day, there was no one else to be seen. Blaine noticed this and he spun Kurt to face him and kissed him eagerly, his hands sliding up Kurt's chest.

"Blaine!" Kurt reprimanded playfully when his boyfriend accidentally knocked his hat off. When Blaine grinned and continued to kiss him, not letting him pick his hat up, he raised a hand and casually knocked Blaine's hat to the ground.

"_Hey!_" Blaine protested, letting go of Kurt to pick his hat up, but Kurt beat him to it, snatching Blaine's hat off the ground and jogging backwards a few steps, holding the hat in the air out of Blaine's reach.

When Kurt reached where his own hat lay, he bent to pick it up, keeping his eyes on his boyfriend and still holding Blaine's hat out of reach. Just as he straightened up, his hat clutched in his free hand, Blaine jumped forwards and knocked Kurt's hat out of his hand again, tickling Kurt's waist when he tried to pick it up again.

"Ok!" Kurt gasped as he staggered towards a nearby bench. "I surrender!" He collapsed on the bench and handed Blaine his hat back.

Blaine scooped up Kurt's hat and brushed the dust from it. Kurt held out his hand for it as Blaine sat down beside him, but Blaine held the hat away from him. "Kiss first," he demanded with a slight pout.

With a sigh, Kurt leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the lips, but Blaine grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a fierce kiss.

"Here's your hat." He passed a gasping and flushed Kurt his hat with a smirk.

Kurt jammed the hat back on his head, tweaking the peak to adjust the angle. "Hate you," he told Blaine, but he was smiling.

Blaine flashed him a wide smile. "Love you, too, honey."

Kurt just smiled and shook his head, holding out his hand for Blaine to take as he got to his feet. "Come on, we'll go back to my place and you can make me lunch."

"Oh, I can, can I?" Blaine took his hand and stood up, putting his hat back on.

Kurt frowned at the trees behind the bench – he thought he'd seen a flash of movement, like someone jumping behind a tree. When nothing appeared, he shrugged and shook it off – it was probably just a bird or a squirrel. He adjusted Blaine's hat for him. "Yes, you can. After that meal you cooked me last night, you're not getting away with not cooking for me."

"I'm not making you that chocolate dessert every day, that's for special occasions only. It tastes better if you only have it on occasion."

Kurt heaved a mock sigh of resignation. "Fine."

* * *

**A/N: **If I was Kurt I would be seriously thinking about proposing to Blaine by now :)

If anyone is thinking they jumped into the 'I love yous' a little quickly (they've only been dating around 2 months) then I wouldn't say you're wrong, but: 1) It's Klaine, so they're made for each other; and 2) The separation while Blaine was on tour and what happened in LA helped them to realise their feelings earlier.

Huge thank you to everyone reading and reviewing! It's always great to hear from readers.

And thanks again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	11. Chapter 11

_Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson dating?_

_What has in the past been passed off as a friendship is now clearly a lot more. Chart-topping musician Blaine Anderson, and popular talk show host Kurt Hummel, were spotted exchanging passionate kisses in Central Park last week._

_A source says that the two men were walking through the park hand-in-hand and overheard them expressing their love for each other. They also allegedly often spend the night at each other's apartments and it is rumoured that Hummel joined Anderson in LA when he was out there on his recent national tour._

_Speculation of a romantic relationship between the pair began early last month when they were photographed leaving a workshop performance of a new Broadway musical together, but both denied anything more than friendship when asked about it._

_Neither Anderson nor Hummel were available for comment, but no confirmation of their romantic relationship is needed from either of them – the pictures say it all._

* * *

Closing his eyes, Kurt sprayed some hairspray over his carefully styled locks. Opening his eyes again, he examined his hair from all angles in the mirror before, satisfied, capping the bottle and setting it down on the vanity. His phone rang as he was straightening his tie. Getting to his feet, he crossed his dressing room and scooped his phone up from where it laid on the small table in front of the couch. He smiled when he saw the name on the screen.

"Hey, honey, how's the writing going?"

"I'm not getting much done to be honest," Blaine admitted.

Kurt stood up straight, picking up on Blaine's resigned tone. "What's wrong?"

Blaine sighed. "Someone took pictures of us kissing in Central Park on Friday." He sounded haggard. "So, that's it, the world knows about us now."

Kurt dropped down onto the couch. "Fuck," he muttered.

"We were also apparently overheard saying that we love each other and they somehow know – or have taken a lucky guess – that we regularly spend the night together and that you came out to LA to see me." Blaine sounded more tired than annoyed now.

Kurt let his head fall back against the couch. "I don't understand how they got the pictures, we're always so careful in public and-" He broke off, suddenly remembering something.

"Kurt?"

Kurt barely heard him; his mind was back in Central Park by the bench where they had messed around together, knocking each other's hats off and kissing. "I saw someone when we were in the park and were joking around with our hats. Someone ducked behind a tree just as we were walking away, I saw them out the corner of my eye, but at the time thought it must have just been a bird or something. That must have been who took the pictures." He growled in frustration. "I should have said something at the time or gone and looked to see who it was! I shouldn't have doubted what I saw."

"Kurt, it's not your fault," Blaine said firmly. "Whoever it was must have followed us to that spot because there was nobody around when we got there. They must have known who we were somehow and followed us until they got the chance to get some pictures that clearly showed we're together."

Before Kurt became someone the paparazzi liked to follow around he would have been worried at the knowledge that someone had been following them, but he was used to that behaviour now, to having people with cameras trail behind him to try and get some photos that were worthy of selling. Now it was something else that bothered him.

"How did they know it was us? Neither of us have been recognised before when wearing hats and sunglasses to hide our faces."

"I have no idea, Kurt. Maybe they heard us speak and recognised our voices?" Blaine suggested. "I don't know."

Kurt sighed again. "Why are people so determined to make our relationship public?"

"They just want to try and make more money by being the one with the exclusive." Blaine paused and Kurt could picture him slumped on the couch in his apartment, dressed in sweats and an old t-shirt and running his hand through his un-gelled hair. "My publicist has been telling anyone who calls asking to talk to me about it that I'm busy and unavailable for comment."

Kurt nodded. "I'll just have to do the same until we decide what we want to say to these people."

There was a knock at the door and Kurt held the phone away from his mouth as he told whoever it was to come in. The door opened and Taylor stepped into the room, closing her mouth when she spotted the phone in Kurt's hand.

"What is it?" Kurt asked her, seeing the expression on his producer's face.

Taylor hesitated for a moment, and then said, "We're getting quite a few calls asking if you could comment on your relationship with Blaine Anderson." She looked apologetic.

Kurt held back a sigh. "Tell them I'm unavailable."

Taylor nodded and swiftly left the room.

"I take it the phone calls have started?" Blaine said, obviously having heard his exchange with Taylor.

"Yeah, they've started."

Blaine just sighed. "You still coming over tonight?"

"Of course."

"I'll let you finish getting ready for your show. Love you."

Kurt smiled. "Love you, too."

* * *

Frowning, Blaine peered out the window down at the street below. He could see a couple of men dressed in jeans and t-shirts and with cameras slung around their necks standing talking a few feet away from the door of his apartment building. A little further down the road more paparazzi were gathered, eyeing all the cars and pedestrians that went by.

He turned away from the window, feeling a little puzzled as to why who he was dating had caused the paparazzi to hang around outside his building when they had never done so before. Was all of this really just to get a few pictures of Kurt entering his apartment or the pair of them leaving together?

He picked up his phone from where he had left it on the coffee table earlier and sent a text to Kurt, warning him about the paparazzi. When he got a reply less than a minute later telling him that Kurt was only a few minutes away and should hopefully be able to avoid the paparazzi, he hurried back to the window and stared down at the street.

After several minutes of seeing nothing but passing cars and milling paparazzi, a young man wearing a fashionable outfit with a clock-patterned bowtie appeared in view of his window. His face was hidden, but Blaine recognised everything from his outfit to the way he walked – Kurt.

At first the paparazzi took no notice of him and Blaine began to think that Kurt would be able to get away with entering the building without being recognised, but then one of the men in the group of paparazzi furthest from the doors hurried forwards wielding his camera. There were a few seconds of confusion, then the others realised that the man they had passed off as a casual passer-by was Kurt.

There was a mass dash over to the doors of the building and all cameras were raised and directed at Kurt in an almost perfect unison. Kurt just continued walking the last few paces into the building, ignoring the cameras and the shouts directed his way. Blaine knew when Kurt disappeared out of sight of the cameras as the paparazzi all shuffled away from the doors and lowered their cameras.

Blaine stepped away from the window and strode across his apartment to the front door so he could unlock it for Kurt. He had only just turned away from the door when there was a knock on it. He spun around and pulled it open, his exasperation at the paparazzi and annoyance with whoever took and sold those pictures of himself and Kurt in Central Park vanishing as he smiled at his boyfriend.

Kurt removed his hat and sunglasses as he stepped into the apartment. "Hi," he said, greeting Blaine with a kiss.

"I saw you got caught by the paparazzi," Blaine said as they moved away from the door into the living area.

A small frown line appeared between Kurt's eyebrows. "Yeah, I don't know how they suddenly recognised me." He sat down on the couch. "How long have they been hanging around out there?"

"Most of the afternoon," Blaine replied, sitting down next to Kurt.

"They were outside the studio when I left, but I doubt they got much since I got in a car straight away."

Blaine drummed his fingers on the couch. "What are we going to say to all these reporters? I mean, obviously we have to tell them the truth about our relationship – we can't deny it anymore – but…" He trailed off.

Kurt nodded his head slowly. "But how much do we say?" he finished. "We need to tell them enough so that they are sated and leave us alone, but not _too_ much – I don't want everybody knowing every little detail of our relationship.

"Me neither," Blaine agreed. He nibbled on his bottom lip and reached absentmindedly for Kurt's hand, lacing their fingers together on top of Kurt's thigh.

Kurt rubbed his thumb along the tops of Blaine's knuckles. "If we say how long we've been dating and a brief description of how we got together, then that should be enough to keep them happy," he said slowly, his eyes slightly unfocused as he thought it all through. "That covers the main things they would want to know, doesn't it?"

"I think so," Blaine agreed slowly. He smiled at his boyfriend and shuffled closer to him, letting his head rest on his shoulder. A small, happy sigh escaped him when Kurt put an arm around his shoulders and held him close.

They sat in silence for a moment, revelling in the closeness, Kurt still stroking Blaine's knuckles and tracing random patterns on the back of his hand.

"I like your bowtie," Blaine said quietly, his voice small. And Blaine _felt_ small whenever Kurt held him like this, but it was nice, he felt safe; being in Kurt's arms was like home.

He glanced up in time to see Kurt smile down at him. "I knew you would. Wait until you see what I have back at my apartment for you!"

"What is it?" Blaine asked curiously.

Kurt shook his head. "Nope, not telling. You'll find out once it's ready," he said with a grin.

Blaine pouted, his eyes large and bright. Kurt placed a hand over his boyfriend's eyes, covering them, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist them otherwise. "Put the eyes away, Blaine. Don't you have any patience? If I tell you now it will ruin the fun of the surprise."

Huffing out a breath, Blaine mumbled an indistinct agreement to wait.

"Thank you," Kurt said brightly, starting to remove his hand, Blaine reached up and grabbed hold of Kurt's wrist and pressed a wet, noisy kiss to the centre of his palm, pulling away with a _'mwah'_ sound.

Kurt giggled adorably and Blaine smiled at the sound, his eyes drinking in Kurt's blue gaze, lit up in a bright sparkle; his soft, pink lips stretched in a smile to show his teeth; his pale skin with the cheeks flushed a light pink. Unable to resist, he tilted his head to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

Kurt met his gaze and smiled down at him. "I promise it's worth the wait; I'm sure you're going to love it."

"I'm sure I will."

* * *

Over the next few weeks the paparazzi and reporters pestering them got worse. They had both given a short comment on their relationship to the media, but it hadn't satisfied them for long. Their relationship was hot entertainment news just now and magazines, entertainment TV shows, and media websites were clamouring for any new scrap of information that hadn't yet been revealed. For some reason Blaine couldn't quite fathom, his and Kurt's relationship was apparently of great interest to hundreds of people. More articles speculating about various aspects of their relationship had appeared in numerous different publications, leaving Kurt and Blaine puzzling over how they came up with some of the stuff and how they managed to correctly guess some things, like how Blaine had visited Kurt at work one day and that Blaine had written a song for Kurt.

Paparazzi always seemed to know where they were going to be and when, like they had some secret insider knowledge on both their whereabouts and plans. Blaine could barely leave his apartment these days without being swamped by greedy paparazzi and their cameras, shoving at each other in their desperate attempts to get a decent picture and shouting questions at him which blurred into a nonsensical roar as they yelled over the top of each other. Kurt had it as bad as him and their days of being able to stroll along the street together and grab a coffee in peace were gone. Now their dates were restricted to being at each other's apartments or at a restaurant with Blaine's bodyguards standing sentinel both inside and outside the building.

He knew it was starting to frustrate Kurt, was starting to get him down – he felt the same way – as neither of them had any idea how they somehow _always_ seemed to know where they were going to be, like how they had been found in Central Park that day, not to mention that they knew things about their relationship that only their close friends and family knew. However, he could see a small bright spot on the dark paparazzi-crowded horizon. He was playing at a festival in LA next weekend and that would give him and Kurt a break away from it all since Charlie was doing all he could to keep Blaine's hotel and travel plans a secret. Blaine was looking forward to being able to walk undisturbed down the street with Kurt and go and sit in a coffee shop again.

But it wasn't to be.

"I'm _so _sorry, Blaine, but I won't be able to come. I have a show to do on Friday and an important meeting with my producers on Saturday." Kurt reached for Blaine's hands, squeezing them gently as he apologised profusely, his eyes pleading with Blaine to understand that he really wanted to go with him, but just couldn't.

Blaine nodded sadly. "It's ok, I understand, you can't just skip your work." He gave Kurt a small, weak smile as he struggled to hide the disappointment he felt; he had been really looking forward to Kurt coming to LA with him. "Maybe next time."

Kurt's eyes searched his and Blaine knew his boyfriend could see how disappointed he was about this – Kurt could always tell exactly what he was feeling.

"Come here," Kurt murmured.

Blaine slid closer to him on the stylish couch that was one piece in a tastefully matching set of furniture in Kurt's living room. Kurt's arms enveloped him, drawing him against his chest. Blaine clutched at him, gently squeezing Kurt's back and burying his nose in the soft, pale skin of his neck.

"I really wish I could come," Kurt whispered after a moment. "At least you're only gone for a weekend this time."

Blaine hummed in agreement, squeezing his eyes shut and holding Kurt a little tighter. "I'll still miss you, though," he mumbled against Kurt's neck.

"I know," Kurt whispered, "I will too." He gave Blaine one last squeeze and pulled back, dropping a kiss to Blaine's temple. "I have something for you. You can wear it to your performance in LA, so then a part of me is with you."

"Kurt, a part of you is _always_ with me," Blaine told him in a low voice constricted with emotion.

Kurt just smiled and gave him a quick kiss before getting to his feet. "I'll just go and get it."

He returned less than a minute later, carrying a small, shallow cardboard box which he handed to Blaine with the simple instruction to open it.

Curious, Blaine lifted the lid off the box to reveal a blue and grey plaid bowtie nestled on a layer of tissue paper. He set the lid aside and picked it up, the fabric smooth and soft beneath his fingers.

"It's beautiful," he gasped softly. He looked up at Kurt who was watching him with a smile. "You made this?" He knew he had, but he couldn't help the question escaping his lips in a stunned voice.

Kurt nodded. "I know how much you love bowties, so I wanted to make one for you; one you can wear while you are on tour so, like I said earlier, a part of me is always with you."

Blaine leaned forward and kissed him softly. "Thank you, I love it."

Kurt reached for the bowtie, lifting it out of Blaine's hands. "Here," he said, setting it down on his lap and removing the one Blaine was currently wearing and replacing it with the new one.

Blaine gazed up at him as he tied it and Kurt smiled at him when he was finished. Just when Blaine thought he was going to kiss him, Kurt took his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"You need to see how it looks on you," Kurt said as he led Blaine over to the mirror hanging on the wall of his living room.

Gazing at his reflection, Blaine raised a hand and touched the edge of the bowtie whilst Kurt watched him in the mirror. "I love it, Kurt – really. Thank you so much, no one has ever given me something like this before." He turned away from the mirror and pulled Kurt in for a kiss, biting down gently on his bottom lip and then smoothing his tongue over it, causing Kurt to open his mouth, allowing Blaine to slip his tongue inside with a soft groan. Kurt pulled him closer as they kissed so Blaine could feel his boyfriend's pounding heart through his shirt.

"I love you," Blaine murmured when their kisses slowed.

Kurt hummed in agreement and held Blaine tighter, suddenly kissing him passionately and almost frantically again instead of the slow, languid kisses they had just been sharing. He pulled away when the need to breathe could no longer be ignored, leaving Blaine gasping for air.

"I'm sorry I can't come to LA," Kurt panted.

Blaine stroked his cheek. "Kurt, it's fine. I'm only there for one weekend and you have to work. I'll call you whenever I can and I'll wear your bowtie for the performance."

Kurt kissed the tip of his nose. "You better," he warned with a smile.

* * *

**A/N: **So, the world now knows about their relationship and paparazzi are constantly following them around...

Thank you all for reading and for all of the reviews!

Thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: Blaine is off to LA without Kurt...


	12. Chapter 12

Hopping out of the car when it rolled to a stop outside the hotel, Blaine fumbled for his sunglasses as the bright sun – which had been dimmed considerably by the car's tinted windows – dazzled him.

It was Friday evening and he had just spent the day doing a final rehearsal for the festival, checking out the venue, and seeing the set-up for his performance. He had found time to call Kurt when he knew his boyfriend wouldn't be busy at work and had talked to him until he had to go and rehearse.

He was just walking towards the hotel's doors when a familiar voice shouted his name. Turning, he spotted someone he hadn't seen in almost a year walking towards him, a huge smile on his face. "Nick!" Blaine greeted him when his old Dalton classmate reached him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, giving the taller man a hug.

"Your friend George told me you were back in LA and that you would have less of a hectic schedule than you did last time you were here, so he told me which hotel you were staying at and said I should come see you," Nick explained.

"Are you friends with George?" Blaine asked, still smiling at the appearance of his friend. "I didn't know that."

Nick shrugged. "I wouldn't really call us friends, more acquaintances, but we exchanged phone numbers when we had that barbecue at my place last year." He smiled at Blaine. "So how's everything with you? I don't read any of those gossip magazines or websites, but I still know that you're dating that talk show host, Kurt Hummel. I saw the news on the front cover of some magazine."

Blaine smiled at the mention of Kurt and Nick elbowed him playfully. "Aw, Blainers is in love!" he cooed.

Blushing, Blaine shoved at his friend. "Kurt is amazing, I'm so glad I met him." Ignoring Nick's cooing, he continued, "we've been together since June and yes, I do love him, very much."

Nick clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm happy for you, Blaine, you deserve someone who makes you feel like that and from what I've heard, Kurt is a pretty great guy."

Blaine nodded fervently. "He is."

"So, are you able to come out for a drink? Invite your band mates as well, we can all catch up, it's been ages."

"It really has," Blaine said with a nod. He pulled his phone out his pocket and began typing out a text to George. "Where do you want to go? I can tell them to meet us there."

Nick named a bar a short walk from the hotel and Blaine sent the text, receiving a reply almost immediately. "They'll join us there in about twenty minutes," he informed Nick, shoving his phone back in his pocket as they started to walk away from the hotel.

It was nice being able to walk along a street without people taking his picture, and in LA of all places, a city more known for paparazzi than New York. He felt a sharp pang of sadness that Kurt wasn't there with him, sharing this moment of peace, an unexpected oasis in the vast, hot city. He wanted Kurt to meet Nick as well; he knew the two would get along. They were both witty, down-to-earth people with a soothing aura that made them comforting to be around.

The bar Nick had chosen was relatively small compared to some of the other LA bars, but it had a good atmosphere, fairly lively in spite of the early hour and its lack of customers. The music was an enjoyable mix of the new and the old and the drinks weren't overpriced like some other places, where more was charged for drinks just because of the bar's popularity. They sat down at a table away from the other occupied ones. Blaine asked Nick about his job, girlfriend, and everything that had happened since they had last seen each other. He sipped happily at his drink as he listened to Nick describe one of the more interesting cases he was currently working on – Nick was a lawyer – and made a mental note to invite Nick over to New York to visit some time.

There was a shout of greeting and Blaine looked up, setting his glass down on the table and smiling at the sounds of the familiar voices of his band mates. They all greeted Nick enthusiastically, Nick thanking George for organising this. Seth went to the bar to get drinks while the others settled down and began to discuss LA, jobs, family, touring, and New York.

Blaine found himself glancing at his watching and sighing a little when he saw it was a little after eleven. He could picture Kurt in his apartment, maybe reading a book or watching some TV, perhaps sitting wondering what Blaine was doing right now. He'd be alone since Rachel would be doing a show and Blaine wanted nothing more than to just be able to stand up, leave the bar, walk to Kurt's apartment and join him on the couch. He would wrap his arms around him, feeling his boyfriend nuzzle against his chest as they lazily watched a movie or a _Project Runway_ re-run, Blaine grinning and shaking his head fondly at Kurt's critical comments on each outfit, the Parson's student side of him showing. He loved being out with his friends and it was great spending time with Nick again, but he loved being with Kurt more – being home.

With a soft sigh he returned his attention to the conversation around him. The bar was a lot more crowded and more people were arriving as the night wore on. His friends seemed to become louder and rowdier in direct proportion to the ever increasing number of people in the bar. Most of them were tipsy now, laughing too loud at jokes and with too bright eyes and lightly flushed faces. He fiddled with the rim of the glass of what was only his second drink as he listened to George recount some story about a guy he had tried to pick up at a bar in New York. He wasn't in the mood to drink much and he really didn't want to try and perform tomorrow with a hangover, so he downed the last mouthful of his drink and declined Nick's offer of another.

Over the next half hour the amount of people entering the bar doubled and the building was now crowded and loud. Leaning across the table, Blaine yelled at Nick that he was going back to the hotel. Blaine didn't think Nick had heard him over the noise, but then his friend drank the last of his drink with a neat flip of his wrist and got to his feet, shouting over the music, talking, and laughter that he and Blaine were leaving and that they should all meet up again soon, before edging around the table and joining Blaine in squeezing their way out of the bar. Blaine paused outside the doors, gratefully breathing in lungfuls of air that wasn't heavy with alcohol, sweat, and the exhalations of dozens of people packed into a small area.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" Nick asked as they set off back to Blaine's hotel. "You looked like you were in your own little world for a good part of the night." Nick hadn't drunk enough to reach the tipsy stage and had apparently been paying more attention to Blaine than he had thought.

"I had a good time, it was great, all of us hanging out together again," Blaine said sincerely. "I was just thinking – that's all."

"About Kurt?" Nick asked knowingly as they crossed the road.

Blaine lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "Maybe," he said shyly.

Nick nodded. "You wish he could have been with us." He glanced sideways at Blaine. "I'm guessing he was too busy with his show to come out here with you?"

Blaine nodded and Nick made a sympathetic noise. "It must be hard," he said as the hotel came into view, the doors and valet area all lit up by strategically placed lights, "you both have busy schedules – Kurt with his filming and you with your touring – and you're both celebrities, your presence is wanted at lots of different events…" He trailed off and was silent for a moment until they were walking towards the hotel doors. "It must be hard," he repeated.

Blaine didn't say anything, turning over Nick's words in his mind. He knew he and Kurt didn't have the easiest of relationships – the last few weeks had been clear proof of that – but he had never really thought it through fully before, what he and Kurt would have to go through. They had got a taster when Blaine had been on that small national tour, but there were international tours to come, which lasted months, not weeks, and it wouldn't be easy for Kurt to jump on a plane and come visit him for the weekend like he did last time in LA, and with Kurt's work it would be tricky for him to find time to join Blaine whilst he was on tour. The thought of all these problems that they would soon have to face, that were hiding just around the corner, hit Blaine like a punch in the stomach from a fist made of steel, the air forced out of his lungs in a whoosh that sounded loud to his own ears. He sucked in a breath and clenched his jaw determinedly; he and Kurt would work it all out. They would be fine.

Nick didn't seem to notice the effect his words had had on Blaine, the alcohol not allowing him to be _that _perceptive, and he turned to Blaine with a smile when they reached the hotel doors.

"It was great seeing you again, Blaine; I wish it were possible for us to hang out more often."

Blaine returned his smile, pushing the lingering thoughts of his relationship to the back of his mind. "Yeah, it's a pity we both live on different coasts, but you have to come to New York to visit some time and meet Kurt. Just let me know when you've got a free weekend or something and I'll work something out. You can bring your girlfriend; I'll pay for your flights."

Nick's face lit up. "That would be fantastic, Blaine, thanks!" He stepped forward and pulled Blaine into a hug.

Blaine smiled and gave his friend a squeeze before stepping back. He glanced over his shoulder at the hotel. "Do you want to have one last drink in the hotel bar? It'll be quieter."

"Sure," Nick said, and they turned and headed into the cool, marble-floored lobby of the hotel, passing the long wooden reception desk and large, vibrant floral arrangements in tasteful vases set on polished wooden tables to the bar.

They reminisced about their Dalton days over their drinks while the gentle sounds of a piano played softly through the hidden speakers and neatly-dressed bartenders served hotel guests, who were talking in low rumbles. They lingered for a little while after the last mouthfuls of their drinks had been swallowed, until Nick reluctantly announced that he had better get home as it was coming on to one in the morning.

After bidding Nick goodbye, Blaine headed upstairs to his room, smiling at Kurt's bowtie which lay on a chair for him to wear tomorrow. He wished he could call Kurt, but it was late and Kurt had a meeting with his producers early Saturday morning. Kurt would be asleep by now.

After one last wistful glance at the bowtie, he started to get ready for bed.

* * *

Kurt cursed under his breath as he struggled to unlock his apartment door while juggling several files of notes from his meeting with his producers. Tucking the slimmest file under his chin, he struggled for another moment, before finally managing to slide the key in the lock with a small huff of relief. Turning the key, he unlocked the door and shoved at it with the shoulder of his file-laden arm so that it swung open.

The door had barely thudded shut behind him when a rather wild-eyed Rachel came rushing towards him, her face set in lines of apprehension.

"Oh, Kurt I'm _so, so_ sorry! I never _dreamed_ he would do something like this!"

Kurt frowned at her and pushed past her to dump the files on the coffee table in the living room. He was really not in the mood for one of Rachel's mood swings where she became overly dramatic about everything. He could sense Rachel hovering nervously behind him, wanting to say something, but uncertain about how to deal with Kurt's reaction. He sighed and slowly turned to face her. "What are you talking about?" he asked wearily.

Rachel looked more upset than worried now. "You don't know?"

Kurt's frown deepened as he took in Rachel's expression and her slightly shocked tone of voice. His heart rate quickened, a reflex reaction to Rachel's behaviour, which was beginning to scare him a little – this wasn't Rachel being a drama queen, this was something else.

"Don't know what?"

Instead of answering, Rachel strode quickly from the room.

Kurt stared at her retreating back, confusion and worry flooding through him in equal measures, making his heart contract in sudden fear. He jogged after her, catching up with his friend just as she entered her bedroom. "Rachel, what's going on?"

Still she didn't speak, just loaded up some entertainment news website on her laptop and clicked through to one of the current top articles. Biting down on her lip and shooting Kurt a teary glance, she slid the laptop closer to him so he could see the article displayed on the screen, the large title catching his eyes immediately and causing the air in his lungs to freeze.

'_Blaine Anderson's secret rendezvous with mystery man.'_

He stared at the screen in disbelief; it must be a mistake, just some stupid reporter posting fabricated rubbish. But then he saw the photos.

They were clearly taken late at night, but the lights surrounding the front of the hotel provided enough illumination for everything in the photo to be as clear as if it had been taken in broad daylight. Blaine, a few curls loose on his forehead, was embracing another man who was taller, dark-haired, and handsome. The second photo showed the pair of them entering the hotel together, walking so close that their hands were almost brushing.

Kurt didn't know what to think, what to _feel_. He didn't know if he was still breathing, he didn't know where he was. He was numb as he scrolled further down the webpage to read the accompanying article.

_Blaine Anderson may be famously dating talk show host Kurt Hummel, but that didn't stop the twenty-three year old 'Ignorance' singer from spending a night out in Los Angeles last night with a handsome, dark-haired mystery man, before inviting the man back to his hotel._

_A source confirms that Anderson spent most of Friday evening in a bar with the man before they left and headed back to the hotel where Anderson is currently staying while in LA for a festival performance. The pair were photographed embracing outside the hotel and the source states that the subject of Anderson's affections didn't leave the hotel again until the next morning._

_Anderson has been dating Hummel since late June after the pair met on Hummel's talk show – 'The Kurt Hummel Show' – but it appears that Anderson is using the time away from New York and his boyfriend to engage in activities sure to disappoint his large fan base._

Kurt's gaze moved back up to the photos of its own accord. He didn't want to look at them, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away, couldn't look away from Blaine's arms wrapped around another man…

"Kurt?" Rachel spoke up tentatively, the sound partially snapping him out of his numbness and he scanned the article again, phrases jumping out at him like they were written in large, bold font:

'…_that didn't stop the twenty-three year old 'Ignorance' singer from spending a night out in Los Angeles last night with a handsome, dark-haired mystery man…'_

'_A source confirms that Anderson spent most of Friday evening in a bar with the man before they left and headed back to the hotel where Anderson is currently staying…'_

'…_subject of Anderson's affections didn't leave the hotel again until the next morning.'_

'…_it appears that Anderson is using the time away from New York and his boyfriend to engage in activities sure to disappoint…'_

"Kurt?" Rachel repeated, her voice anxious.

Kurt just shook his head and left the room, walking blindly down the short hallway to his own bedroom, barely hearing the door slam shut behind him once he was inside. He leaned against the door, breathing heavily.

Part of him was screaming that there had been a mistake, that there was another explanation for all of this. Blaine loved him; there was no way that he would do something like this. He had been disappointed that Kurt couldn't join him in LA; he would _never_ cheat on him. But another part of him reminded in a loud, scoffing voice that these reporters had nearly always been right in the past about details to do with their relationship, so why would they be wrong now? Plus they had those photos to prove it. He splayed his hands across his suddenly twisting stomach – he felt like he was going to be sick.

Staggering over to his bed, he fought the rising nausea. He collapsed onto the bed, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling, the nausea gone, numb once again. His mind spun as he tried to process that his boyfriend, who he loved and thought loved him, had cheated on him. The thought was as sour as the bile that had risen in his throat earlier.

He didn't know how long he laid there, staring up at the ceiling as if he was carved out of ice, but when his phone rang – the sudden, harsh sound startling him out of his frozen position – night had fallen outside his bedroom window and the room was lit only by the faint glow of streetlights and a small slice of light entering the room through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. He scooped up his phone and blinked down at the name on the screen – Blaine. His thumb pressed the button to accept the call before he had decided if he was ready to talk to his boyfriend or not.

"Hey, honey, how are you?"

Blaine's voice was so cheerful and so _normal_ that Kurt clutched at his stomach again as pain burned through him, as if something was squeezing his insides in a tight clamp.

"I-" Kurt choked out, and now he could feel the warning signs of approaching tears: his breathing uneven, his eyes burning, his throat choking up. He swallowed thickly. "I-"

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice was full of anxious concern. "Kurt, baby, what's wrong?"

Something, whether it was Blaine's words or the tone of his voice or even just hearing him say his name like that, Kurt didn't know, but _something_ just caused him to snap and the tears dried up and the anger hit. "I'll tell you what's wrong," he said furiously. "What's wrong is that I trusted you and believed that you loved me when you obviously never gave a shit about me!"

"W- What?"

"Being disappointed and upset that I was too busy to come out to LA with you was all an act, wasn't it? I bet you were glad that I couldn't come so you could go out and chat-up some guy at a bar and then take him back to your hotel!" His voice had risen to a shout now and he could hear Blaine stuttering on the other end of the line, but he didn't give him the chance to stumble through a cover story. "So, did you do this when you were on that last tour? Is this what you do every time you're away? Just find some guy for a one-night stand? No wonder you were so tired during that tour, you were fucking around every night!"

He was screaming into the phone now, no longer on the bed, instead pacing around his room in frustration; frustration at himself for being fooled by Blaine and for still loving him.

"Was I just a way to get you some more publicity?" he scoffed. "I bet _you_ were the one who told them all about our relationship and where we would be so that paparazzi could find us. I can't believe I didn't see it before!"

His voice had reached a high, indignant shriek and he was forced to pause to catch his breath.

"Kurt, listen to me, _please_," Blaine begged, his voice choked. "I don't know what someone has told you, but I swear I have never done anything to hurt you. I love you."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you don't know your secret's out, do you?" he asked coldly. "Well, why don't you get your computer and I'll send you the link to the article. That way you can read what everyone else already has."

"Kurt-"

Kurt ignored him, throwing his phone aside as he stormed out the room, entered Rachel's room, and snatched up her laptop from where he had abandoned it earlier, the article appearing on the screen when he brushed his fingers over the touchpad. He stomped back to his room, not noticing Rachel hovering nervously near the entrance to the living room, dropped the laptop on the bed and quickly sent Blaine an email with the link to the article.

He snatched up the phone again. "There you are, now you can read the same delightful article that I enjoyed when I got home from work."

"I don't-" Blaine broke off and Kurt could tell he was reading the article. He glared at his bedroom wall, fuming.

"Shit," Blaine muttered. "Kurt, you have to believe me, that reporter has got the wrong end of the stick. That guy is called Nick, he's-"

"I'm not really interested in hearing about your fuck-buddy, Blaine."

"He's not- Nick isn't- He's my friend from high school, Kurt! Nick and I went to Dalton together; he lives in LA now with his _girlfriend_." He put extra emphasis on the word and Kurt snorted – that didn't stop some people. "He heard I was in LA and had a bit of free time, so we went out and had a few drinks with George and Seth and the others. When the bar started to get really loud and busy around midnight, Nick and I left and walked back to the hotel since it's easier for him to get a taxi from there. I invited him into the hotel bar for one last drink in a quieter setting where we could catch-up more; we hadn't seen each other in almost a year. Then he left around an hour later and I went to bed."

Blaine's voice was choked and thick with tears and Kurt hated that his heart still ached at hearing Blaine so upset and that he was filled with the fierce, overwhelming need to hold him and comfort him.

He gritted his teeth, clenching his fist by his side. "Articles like this have been true in the past, why should this one be any different?" He was surprised by how cold and harsh his voice was and apparently Blaine was as well, as there was a moment of silence.

"Kurt, _please_," Blaine begged and Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the phone so hard he was surprised it didn't crack, Blaine's voice hitting him right in the heart. "Go- go onto the Dalton Academy website and look at the pictures from past Warblers groups." He seemed to sense that Kurt hadn't made a move to do this because he added, "Please, Kurt."

Striding back over to the bed, he yanked the laptop towards him and pulled up Dalton's website, navigating through it until he found photos of the Warblers from when Blaine was at the school. A tiny part of him softened at the sight of a teenage Blaine – looking handsome in a red and navy blazer – smiling jubilantly at the front of a group of boys crowded around a trophy. He scanned through the other faces and paused when he recognised a dark-haired boy near the edge of the group – the man who had been with Blaine in the article's photos as a teenager.

"Did you find them?" Blaine asked.

Kurt swallowed. "You went to high school with him, so what?"

"It proves that I'm not lying to you and that he wasn't just some random guy that I picked up at a bar like that article implies!" Blaine said, raising his voice. "I'm not cheating on you, Kurt! I never have and I never will! I would never do _anything_ to hurt you, why the fuck can't you see that?" He exhaled heavily. "There's something else I want you to look up; maybe that will convince you that I love you and I'm not fucking around. Go on the festival's website and look at videos from my performance today."

Unsure as to why that would prove anything, Kurt did as he said, finding several different videos of parts of Blaine's performance. "Any particular song you want me to watch?"

"'All I Wanted'."

Unmuting the laptop's speakers, Kurt hit play with a shaking hand. 'All I Wanted' was a song Blaine had written about him and he really didn't want to listen to him sing it.

The video started with Blaine introducing the song to a cheering crowd, a soft, tender smile on his face as he said it was about someone very special to him, someone who made his life more wonderful and beautiful than he could ever have imagined. Kurt curled in on himself, tears dripping from his face onto the knees of his jeans. When Blaine raised his hand and lightly tugged at the edge of the bowtie he was wearing, the one Kurt had made for him, the one he had promised he would wear to the performance so that a piece of Kurt was with him, Kurt broke down completely and started sobbing loudly.

On the video still playing on the laptop, Blaine smiled. "This is for you, Kurt," he said into the microphone, before starting to strum the opening chords.

Collapsing down onto his side so he was lying in a foetal position on the bed, Kurt sobbed brokenly, tears turning his face red and blotchy and his breath choking unevenly out of him as Blaine's singing filled the room. He could hear Blaine on the other end of the phone line trying to calm him down and get him to speak, but Kurt was incapable of speech right now.

It wasn't until a few minutes after the video had ended that Kurt, hiccupping, managed to croak out, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trusting you and for believing that stupid article instead, I'm sorry for everything I said, I-"

"Shh, Kurt," Blaine said gently, "it's ok. I know it's hard for you with me being away on tour a lot and articles like this are going to be written, but you've just got to believe me when I say I love you."

Kurt bit down on his trembling lip. "I love you, too," he whimpered, more tears spilling down his face. "You shouldn't forgive me for this; I didn't trust you and accused you of cheating without letting you tell me the truth. I'm an awful person, you deserve better than me, Blaine."

"Don't you dare, Kurt," Blaine warned, his voice suddenly very serious. "Don't you _dare _think like that. You are a wonderful person; you just messed up like everyone does at times. I forgive you and I love you and I don't want anyone else but you."

Kurt hiccupped again, wanting nothing more than to bury his face in Blaine's chest and stay there for hours.

"Tomorrow I'm getting the first flight that I can back to New York and I'm taking you out and we're going to get cheesecake and put all of this behind us, ok?"

Sniffing, Kurt nodded. "Ok."

"I love you, Kurt," Blaine said softly. "Don't ever forget it."

Wiping at his tears, Kurt sniffed again. "Love you, too."

* * *

**A/N: **I don't really know what to say here...

Anyone got any ideas who the traitor may be? Or do you think it's some random I haven't mentioned yet?

Thank you for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thank you to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	13. Chapter 13

"So, can I come over?" Blaine asked, sliding his fingers over the piano keys. Kurt's sigh came down the line and Blaine sagged with disappointment, knowing what he was about to say.

"You'd better not, there are crowds of paparazzi hanging around outside. The police cleared them all away an hour ago, but most of them are back, just not being as conspicuous. Rachel got harassed by them when she left earlier."

Blaine picked at the hem of his shirt. "I just really want to see you."

"I know, I do, too, but it's best if you don't come over just now, they want to try and get us to comment on that article that was published this morning about how I've been insecure and controlling since those cheating allegations or whatever it is they said," Kurt sighed. "You don't want to get caught up in that."

Blaine dropped his hand from the piano. "We're letting these reporters and paparazzi ruin our lives, Kurt. Why does everything we do now have to be dictated by them?" He stood up. "You know what? Screw them, I'm coming over anyway." He hung up before Kurt could protest and left his apartment, snatching his keys on the way out.

He flagged down a taxi once he was out on the street, a little surprised that there was nobody lurking outside his building waiting to try and get him to answer their questions. He jiggled his leg impatiently as the cab weaved through the city traffic until it reached Kurt's building and Blaine could see the paparazzi scattered along a block of the street. Those nearest eyed the cab as it pulled up to the curb, but Blaine paid them no attention. He paid the driver and got out of the taxi, walking calmly into Kurt's building, ignoring the shouts and cameras.

"Is it true Kurt is demanding a say in all of your future performances and interviews?" one man shouted.

A large, bald man pushed his way forward until he was less than a foot away from Blaine. "Blaine, do you have anything to say about the reports that Kurt is considering paying someone to accompany you while you're out of town to make sure what happened last weekend in LA doesn't occur again?"

The building's door swung shut behind him and the shouts and sounds of people calling his name and trying to get a picture were muffled. He took the elevator up to Kurt's floor and knocked on the door.

"You shouldn't have come," Kurt said when he let him into the apartment.

Blaine shrugged. "It was fine; I don't know what you're so worried about. They stick cameras in my face and yell questions at me, but if you just ignore them and go about your business as normal," he shrugged again, "it's fine."

Kurt stepped closer and let his head drop down until his forehead rested on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine wrapped his arms around him and held him close, pressing a kiss to his head.

"I've tried doing that, but I just get swamped by them whenever I go out these days," Kurt said in a muffled voice. "I'm not used to getting this much attention from them. Why are they bothering me so much these days, anyway? And why do they keep writing all those false stories about me and our relationship? What are they hoping to achieve from all of this?"

Blaine hugged Kurt tighter, giving his boyfriend a comforting squeeze. "I don't know, baby. I don't know why they're targeting you so much."

"I wish we could go away somewhere where nobody would bother us," Kurt mumbled wistfully.

"Me too, sweetie, but all of this will blow over soon," Blaine assured him. "They'll get bored of us and leave us alone. Unfortunately, we're stuck dealing with it until they do."

Kurt sighed and lifted his head, dipping down to kiss Blaine softly on the lips. "You're right; it's just hard some days."

Blaine nodded and gave him a soft, lopsided smile. "I know," he said quietly. He gave Kurt a quick kiss. "Do you want to watch a movie or something?"

Kurt nodded and Blaine took his hand, leading him over to the TV where he picked out a DVD – some mindless romantic comedy that didn't require him to think. He dropped down onto the couch and pulled Kurt close, holding him against his chest and smiling when his boyfriend's arms encircled his waist.

Kurt gave up on the movie within the first few minutes, burying his head in Blaine's chest instead and tracing lines and patterns across his torso with his finger, causing Blaine to shiver every now and then. His movements slowed after a while, before stopping altogether and Blaine wondered if he had fallen asleep until he felt him press a kiss to his chest. He slid up Blaine's body to start kissing his neck, mouthing over his pulse point and his throat.

He groaned softly and gathered Kurt against him, pressing their lips together. He could feel Kurt's need to be held and kissed by him. They had spent less time together since Blaine had taken him out for cheesecake after his return from LA, and it was all because of lying, conniving reporters and their supposed 'sources' inventing ridiculous stories about Kurt and their relationship. He knew it was taking its toll on Kurt, but he didn't know what to do to help; he was at a loss. The police could only keep the paparazzi back if too many of them crowded around the outside of Kurt's apartment or studios. It was hurting their relationship. They couldn't see each other as often and as a result they still hadn't fully recovered from that article last weekend.

"I wish I could do something to make them leave you alone," Blaine murmured against Kurt's lips. "I hate how things are right now."

Kurt brushed his nose against Blaine's. "Me too, but like you said, they should get bored of us soon."

"Yeah," Blaine whispered, running his hands down Kurt's back, loving the feel of his muscles beneath his hands. "Yeah, they will."

* * *

He didn't think it was possible, but things got worse as the days went by. Everywhere Kurt went there were paparazzi and he was still at a complete loss as to how they always seemed to know where he was going to be and when. New articles about him were being posted on websites almost daily, most of them featuring lies about him and Blaine, but some of them were frighteningly true and Kurt still had no idea where they were getting their information from.

He hit an all-time low one Thursday afternoon when leaving the studios. All his frustration, anger, and his desperate wish to just be left alone to live his life in peace again bubbled up to the surface and then boiled over.

He snapped at the ever-present paparazzi to 'fuck off and go find somebody else's life to ruin for once', before he got in the car to take him home. On the journey home he found himself wistfully reminiscing about his life before everyone found out that he and Blaine were together, when he only got bothered by paparazzi occasionally and hardly ever had articles written about him on entertainment news or celebrity gossip websites.

He pushed roughly past the paparazzi outside his building and headed up to his apartment, teetering on the edge of a breakdown and planning to spend the rest of the day watching comedies on the TV, knowing that the slightest thing could cause him to tip over the edge.

Shouldering open his apartment door, he threw his keys onto the table and let the door slam shut behind him, before slumping against it with a sigh and closing his eyes.

"Bad day?"

He opened his eyes to see Blaine standing in front of him, his expression changing to one of deep concern when he saw Kurt's face.

"What happened?"

Kurt shook his head and moved away from the door. "Nothing happened, just the same old shit I've been dealing with for weeks now. I've just reached my limit with it, that's all." He threw himself down onto the couch and Blaine sat down next to him, taking his hand and stroking the back of it soothingly with his thumb.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt. I wish I could do something to help you, to make them all leave you alone."

And that was it. He didn't know why words that were intended to comfort him did it, but they did. He tipped over the edge.

He ripped his hand from Blaine's grasp. "I wish you would stop saying that all the time! You were the one who caused all of this; they never bothered me this much until you came along! You caused me to have to live like this, to not be able to walk down the street without fear of being mobbed or photographed!" he snarled, jumping to his feet and glaring at the view of the city out the window, unable to look Blaine in the eye.

All the pent up emotions from the constant harassment from the media and the aftermath of what happened in LA were exploding out of Kurt. He couldn't take it anymore – any of it. He both meant and didn't mean what he was saying to Blaine; it _was_ because of their relationship that all of this was happening, but it wasn't Blaine's fault.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Blaine get to his feet, his hand stretched towards him in placation. "Kurt…" he whispered, his voice choked. He reached for Kurt's hand, but Kurt stepped out of his reach. The hand dropped back to his side.

"I know it's been hard for you these past few weeks and I know that most of the things they're writing about you have to do with me," he said, moving hesitantly towards Kurt, "but it will all blow over soon," he finished weakly.

Kurt gave a hollow laugh. "That's the problem, Blaine, it won't. There is a person or people out there who keep informing the media of our whereabouts and of private details about our relationship and as long as people are interested in it – which they will be for as long as we have fans – they are going to keep writing about it." He closed his eyes. "I should have known dating you was a bad idea, I should have known it would only ever lead to this," he said in a flat voice devoid of all emotion. "Rachel warned me about it and my dad was unsure about me dating another celebrity – I should have listened to them."

He opened his eyes and turned to face Blaine. The shorter man was staring at him with a growing frantic panic. His face was slightly creased with hurt, his lips parted like he was about to say something, and his hands were hanging limply by his sides.

"My friends and family only supported a relationship they didn't really think was good for me because they knew I was happy," Kurt said, still in the same monotone voice – it was like a stranger was speaking. "But I'm not happy anymore." He swallowed. He could feel a trembling starting in his fingertips and spreading quickly up through his hands. Clenching his fists, he turned and headed for the door.

"Kurt, wait, _please_!" Blaine shouted after him, his voice pleading and panicked.

The trembling reached his arms as he gritted his teeth and snatched up his keys, ignoring Blaine.

"Where are you going? Kurt?" Blaine broke into a run and grabbed Kurt's arm just as he placed his hand on the door handle.

"_Don't_," Kurt said sharply and Blaine's hand dropped from his arm. "Just, don't." Without looking back at Blaine, he yanked open the door and strode out of the apartment. He strode down the hall and began stabbing at the elevator call button.

"Please, don't do this, Kurt," Blaine begged and Kurt could hear tears in his voice. A broken sob sounded behind him as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. The trembling reached his chest – it was difficult to breathe.

He heard feet running behind him and turned to see Blaine about to enter the elevator. "Blaine, please, don't," he said harshly.

Blaine stopped on the other side of the elevator doors, his cheeks stained with tears and his cardigan hanging off one shoulder. The elevator doors began to slide shut. "Please don't leave me, Kurt," he whispered brokenly. "I love you, I can't-"

The doors shut and the elevator began to move smoothly down to the ground floor. Kurt's legs were shaking too badly to hold him upright so he leaned against the walls, trying to breathe through the squeezing, burning pain in his chest. The doors opened with a soft chime and he lifted his chin and put all of his energy and willpower into walking across to the doors as if nothing had happened, as if everything was normal and he wasn't falling apart inside, breaking into thousands of tiny, shard-like pieces that punctured and sliced at him with their razor-sharp edges. He quickened his pace and strode out the doors and was a good distance away from the building and flagging down a cab before the paparazzi realised he was there. They had just started to try and get a picture, just started to yell his name, when he got in the cab.

"JFK airport, please," he told the cab driver, who nodded and pulled away. Kurt watched his apartment building disappear from view.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled Rachel's number. His head was too muddled to know if she would be in a show right now, but luckily it must have still been too early for that as she answered after a few rings.

"Hey, Kurt!" she greeted, her voice bright and cheery.

"I'm going away, I don't know for how long, but I need to get out of New York."

There was a brief pause, then, "Wh- What?"

"Can you call Taylor and let her know that I won't be into work tomorrow? I can't do it myself; she'll start asking too many questions." He pressed a hand to his stomach – the broken shards of him were piercing and slicing at his organs.

"Of course I can," she assured him hastily. "But, Kurt-"

"Don't, Rachel, I can't… I just can't," he croaked. His throat was starting to burn now.

She seemed to understand. "Ok, but where are you going?"

"Lima, I'm going to stay with my dad and Carole for a while." He gripped his phone harder in his trembling hand. "Please don't tell Blaine where I'm going."

"What?" Rachel sounded shocked.

"Just, please don't."

"But, Kurt, why-?"

He cut her off. "I have to go." He hung up before she could say anything else and dropped his phone into his lap, pressing his hands over his eyes as the tears started.

His phone rang on his lap and he moved his hands away from his face and squinted at the screen through his tears, expecting it to be Rachel calling back to demand an explanation. But it wasn't Rachel's name on the screen – it was Blaine's.

Biting back a sob, he switched his phone off, feeling tears drip from his chin and jaw as the ringing cut off. His shoulders shook as he held in the harsh, racking sobs trying to escape. Damp patches began to appear on his jeans and shirt from his tears, but he didn't raise a hand to wipe them away, just left the tears to slide down his face and stain his clothes as the jagged shrapnel of his broken heart tore up his insides.

* * *

The elevator doors slid shut and Kurt was gone.

"-live without you," Blaine finished in a whisper that ended on a whimper as he fell to his knees. Sobs wracked his whole body and Kurt's cold, dead voice, saying he was no longer happy now thanks to him, echoed over and over inside his head.

Being beaten up outside his first high school for taking another boy to the dance? That pain was nothing like what he was experiencing now. Now he knew where the expression 'a broken heart' came from, except every part of him felt broken, shattered beyond repair, not just his heart. He felt like he should be crumbling into millions of tiny pieces, like the remains of a delicate porcelain vase that had been thrown onto concrete from a great height.

A determined voice suddenly spoke up in his mind: 'you can't just let him run away from you; you can't just give up without a fight.'

He staggered to his feet and sprinted for the stairs, knowing they would be faster than the elevator if he ran. He took them three, sometimes four, at a time, leaping and almost stumbling his way down them, clutching at the handrail to stop himself from falling. He threw himself at the door leading off to the ground floor and pounded into the lobby just in time to see Kurt getting into a taxi further down the street. He skidded to a halt and watched numbly as the cab sped off down the street. The doorman was saying his name behind him, sounding concerned, but Blaine couldn't do anything but stare at the spot where he had last seen Kurt.

A phone started ringing behind him and he jumped slightly and then pulled his own phone out of his pocket as he realised that all was not yet lost. He dialled Kurt's familiar number with fingers that were shaking so badly it took him several attempts to press the correct buttons. He held the phone to his ear, his breathing quickening with each ring, until suddenly, too soon, the call went to voicemail. He hung up and called him again; this time it went straight to voicemail and Blaine knew that Kurt had switched his phone off. He moved back through the door leading to the stairs, away from the curious doorman, to leave him a message.

"Kurt-" he hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say, then licked his dry lips and tried again. "Kurt, please come back so we can talk. I know things haven't been easy lately, but we can work something out – I know we can. We could move somewhere out of the city, somewhere where they'll leave us alone. Just please don't leave me, I love you so much, Kurt." He bit his lip as the tears started again. "I love you so, so much," he whispered and ended the call, slumping against the cold concrete wall.

* * *

**A/N: **Please don't hate me too much...

I'm sorry for giving you two rounds of angst in a row (well, it will be more than that, actually, as this hasn't resolved yet), but it's been building up to this over the last few chapters. I'm sorry!

I feel like this is a good time to say that I'm a bit of a silly romantic like Kurt. Just keep that in mind until you get the next chapter.

As always, thank you for reading and thank you so much for all of the reviews! Quite a number of you think George is the one betraying them and all I have to say to that is: it will be very obvious who it is soon.

Thank you also to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	14. Chapter 14

"Have a nice flight," the assistant told him uncertainly, her eyes taking in Kurt's crumpled clothing, the hem and sleeves of his shirt spotted with damp patches; his messy hair; red, swollen, tear-stained face and eyes. Kurt just nodded at her, not trusting himself to open his mouth without screaming about how much he wanted to turn back the time, to back before he left a broken Blaine outside his apartment, back before he accused Blaine of cheating, back to that wonderful day in Central Park. He would laugh as Blaine kissed him, before putting his hat back on and when they went to go back to the apartment and he caught that flash of movement out the corner of his eye, he would drop Blaine's hand and go and look behind the tree and see…

And see who? Who was it that had followed them through the park that day and waited for the opportunity to get pictures that would prove he and Blaine were dating? Was it this same person who had been supplying the media with information on their relationship? Was this all the work of one person or were there several of them hunting for any scrap of information that the media would pay them for?

Kurt rubbed at his temples where the beginnings of a headache were taking up residence. Those questions had been swirling around inside his head whenever images of Blaine's hurt face and broken eyes weren't printed there, causing him to bring his knees to his chest and curl up as stabbing, piercing pains attacked his body and he gasped for breath as tears dampened the stiff fabric of his jeans. But no matter how often those questions presented themselves, no matter how long he stewed over them, they remained unanswered.

He dropped down into his seat on the plane, grateful that the flight wasn't a busy one and it looked like the seat next to him would be remaining empty. He didn't want someone shooting him covert glances throughout the flight, their recognition of who he was and their wonderings of what had caused him to be in the state he was in practically stamped across their forehead. He was in a window seat and he could see darkness beginning to fall over New York through the window. Blaine was out there…

He slammed the blind shut and turned his back on the window, curling up in his seat and closing his eyes against the tears blurring his vision as the pain hit again.

None of the flight attendants offered him a pre-flight drink this time. Maybe they thought he was asleep or maybe they just didn't want to approach someone who was crying silently as they walked up and down the aisles, closing all the overhead compartments and checking that the cabin was ready for take-off. He was glad they didn't, he didn't want drinks, he didn't want food, and he didn't want to talk to anyone; he wanted to go back to Blaine. He wanted to run back to him and apologise over and over, get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness and tell Blaine how much he loved him and he didn't mean anything he said earlier. But he couldn't. He needed to get away from it all: New York, the paparazzi and the rest of the media, his job, even Blaine. He needed to go to Ohio where he would have the space, the peace, and the freedom to think and breathe. He didn't know if he had just ended it with Blaine or not, but he knew he couldn't live without having Blaine in his life and he couldn't imagine not loving him. He couldn't go a day without seeing Blaine's face or hearing his voice. He needed Blaine in his life like he needed air, but he couldn't take all the constant photographing and the leaked secrets or the speculation anymore. He couldn't deal with not being able to have a normal life or a normal relationship with his boyfriend anymore.

A roaring and whirring of engines filled the cabin and Kurt opened his eyes as the plane shuddered slightly as it took off – he hadn't even realised the plane had started moving. He rolled over to face the plane's plastic, off-white walls when a man reading today's edition of _The New York Times_ shot him a curious look from his seat across the aisle.

He squeezed his eyes shut again as the plane climbed steadily higher. The memory of Blaine's broken face when Kurt had shouted at him, when he had watched the elevator doors close after Kurt had told him to leave him alone, swam to the surface of his mind again and floated there, unwavering and as detailed as if Blaine stood in front of him. He could see every line of pain carved into Blaine's face, could see Blaine's heart cracking behind his hazel eyes. 'I destroyed him,' Kurt told himself and his throat burned again. 'I hurt him so badly.'

Blaine was bound to think it was over between them, that Kurt had broken up with him; after everything Kurt had said to him, why wouldn't he think that? Kurt had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him, had torn it apart like a bomb destroying a town, crumbling all the beauty to the ground and leaving nothing but ugly rubble and memories behind. All that was left of his and Blaine's relationship were the ugly memories of Kurt's snarled accusations and the shattered pieces of what they once had – rubble that could possibly never be cleared away or re-built into the beauty that was once there.

With a small sob, he broke down again, tears creating wet tracks on his raw cheeks as the plane carried him away from New York and Blaine.

* * *

With a soft 'ding' the elevator doors opened and Blaine shuffled wearily out onto the landing and made his way to Kurt's apartment feeling disheartened. He didn't really know why he had come back here; he didn't really expect Kurt to have come back here – not yet, anyway. But he didn't know where else to look for him, his list of places to search had run dry and now there was nothing else to do but return here and wait for Kurt to return; he had to come back eventually, and then, what? They needed to talk, that was certain, but did Kurt mean he wanted to end it when he said it was a bad idea dating him? The very thought of that, of not having Kurt in his life anymore, forced the air out of his lungs in a harsh gasp and the fragile pieces of him that remained, held together only by the knowledge that it wasn't completely over with Kurt yet, threatened to crack.

He staggered up to Kurt's door, keeping himself from crumpling to the floor through sheer force of will. He leant against the wall by the door for a moment; he was worn out both emotionally and physically. Since discovering Kurt's phone was switched off, he had been searching throughout New York City for him, visiting any place that came to mind as somewhere he may go: his favourite coffee shops, his studios, the gym he went to, Central Park, his favourite stores… He went to the theatre where Rachel's show was playing and asked if Kurt was backstage, thinking that he may have gone to be with his friend, but they told him that they hadn't seen him. He even went to his own apartment as a last, desperate attempt to find him, though he had never expected Kurt to be there.

Pulling the apartment key out of his pocket and sliding it into the lock, he felt tears well up again as he remembered the day Kurt had given him the key: the smile on his boyfriend's face making his blue eyes sparkle as he pressed the key into his hand, the melodic voice he heard in his dreams telling him he should have his own key seeing as he spent so much time at the apartment, the soft, silky smoothness of Kurt's lips beneath his as they shared a sweet kiss, his heart light with a happiness unlike anything he had ever experienced…

The lock clicked and he pushed the door open, stepping into the apartment, keeping his eyes averted from the couches in the living area. Nudging the door with his foot, it swung shut with a soft thud and footsteps echoed from the kitchen – Blaine's heart leapt.

Rachel came through from the kitchen, looking worried, but with a hopeful spark in her eyes. When she saw Blaine she faltered.

"Blaine?" she said weakly. Her eyes took in his ragged appearance: his hair a tangled mess, gel long gone; eyes bloodshot and red-raw; face pale and drawn beneath the blotchiness from tears; clothes hanging limply off his slumped frame. The hopeful spark had fizzled out and her look of concern had deepened along with the lines on her forehead. "What happened?"

Blaine swallowed tears and shook his head. He couldn't talk about it, not yet, the wounds were too fresh, too raw – he was still bleeding.

She moved closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. "Blaine, please, what happened?"

He bit down on his trembling lip and inhaled deeply through his nose in a valiant attempt to hold himself together. It didn't work; the air held a trace of Kurt's scent and his resolve collapsed like a sandcastle hit by a wave. "Kurt left me!" he cried, before falling forward onto Rachel, his head landing on her shoulder.

She rubbed his back gently and tried to calm him, but nothing could soothe him, nothing could put back the shattered pieces of him; only Kurt. "Kurt sounds just as torn-up about it as you are, so I don't think he has left you," she reassured him in a low voice.

Gulping some air into his lungs through his tears, Blaine stepped back and frowned at her. "What do you mean? Have you talked to him? Do you know where he is?" His eyes searched hers frantically.

Rachel looked strained. "He's gone," she said slowly.

The words hit Blaine like a punch in the stomach and he stumbled backwards a step, his legs trembling and his fragile heart thumping erratically. His knees threatened to give out; he braced his hand against the wall beside him to steady himself. "_Gone?_" he repeated in a despairing whisper. "Gone where?"

Rachel looked like she was fighting some internal battle with herself. She watched Blaine with apprehensive, conflicted eyes, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

"Rachel, please," he begged her. "I can't lose Kurt – _please_." His voice broke on the final word.

The battle raged on behind Rachel's eyes for another, agonisingly long moment, then, "Ohio," she whispered. "He's gone to his family in Lima."

Blaine removed his hand from the wall and turned back towards the door. "Thank you! Thank you!" he called back at Rachel who was still watching him.

He thundered down the corridor and through the door and out into the stairwell. For the second time that day he flung himself down the stairs as fast as he could. He shouldered open the door leading out into the entryway and he sprinted across it to the front doors, ignoring the shocked look from the doorman. As soon as he hit the street he scanned the traffic for an approaching taxi, his eyes desperately seeking out a yellow car with black checkers. Spotting one coming towards him, he frantically flagged it down, breathing a sigh of relief when it pulled up to the curb by him.

Yanking open the door, he threw himself into the cab's backseat. "JFK airport, please."

* * *

The tears had finally dried at some point during the flight and now, as the taxi rolled to a stop with a slight squeak of brakes outside his family's house in Lima, Kurt felt empty, like he was just a hollow shell, moving and breathing robotically. He mechanically thanked and paid the cab driver and climbed out onto the sidewalk and stared up at the house he had lived in as a teenager.

The porch light was on and more light spilled from a few of the windows, casting squares of light on the ground outside. The taxi drove away just as a shadow moved across one of the lit windows, a silhouette that could have been his dad, Carole, or Finn moving around the house preparing to go to bed. It seemed strange how everything here was exactly as it had been when he had still been in high school: same smell of cut grass and cooling plants and concrete, same house with the same lights, same people going about the same routines inside. It felt like something should have changed; he had just broken into millions of pieces, _something_ should have changed. But it hadn't, the house and his family were the same as always: solid, dependable, an anchor to keep him from being dragged off and drowned in the riptides and treacherous currents.

He staggered almost drunkenly up to the front door and rang the doorbell. He dimly realised how it would look to his family that he had turned up at the house unannounced late at night, looking a wrecked mess and with nothing on him but his phone, wallet, and apartment keys. He knew, but he didn't have the strength to try and soften the blow. He needed them more than ever – solid, dependable, unchanging – to cling to and keep him together.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door and then it opened to reveal Carole, her expression one of polite curiosity until she saw who it was. Her eyes widened.

"Kurt!" she exclaimed in shock, her eyes full of anxious concern. "What are you- sweetie, what's wrong?"

Kurt gulped in several lungfuls of the warm night air, trying desperately not to break down again. He felt his throat start to choke up and he clenched and unclenched his fists in an effort to hold himself together.

"Oh, honey," Carole said softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and guiding him inside.

Another voice called through from the kitchen as Kurt was led into the living room. "Who was that at the door?" The kitchen door swung open and Burt appeared, looking curious.

The sight of his father's face and sound of his voice was enough to break what little control Kurt had left and he choked out a muffled sob as the tears started again, his dad's face turning into an indistinguishable blur as he hurried towards him.

"Kurt!" He felt hands on his shoulders. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Kurt could do nothing but stand there and cry as pain burned his insides. He was pulled forwards gently and he felt his dad's arms wrap around him.

Sagging against his dad's comforting, solid body, he dropped his head on his shoulder and clutched at his back. His dad held him as he shook and shuddered with pain and his sobs. His nose was running, the skin on his face was raw, and his clothes were ruined, three things that would have greatly bothered the teenage Kurt Hummel who had stood in this living room and hugged his dad dozens of times, but that the current Kurt Hummel couldn't care less about. All he could think about was Blaine.

_Blaine._ He gripped his dad firmer and screwed his eyes shut tighter, as if by shutting his eyes as much as was physically possible he could shut out all the memories of the past week.

He didn't know how long they stood there, his dad occasionally murmuring in a soothing tone that it was all going to be ok, but he heard the low rumbling of Finn's voice at one point and Carole saying something in response before two sets of footsteps – one heavy and shuffling, the other light and even – left the room.

Eventually, he was able to relax his death-grip on the back of his dad's shirt and take a step back, wiping at his damp face with the back of his hand. His dad just watched him anxiously as he sniffed and said in a dejected and hopeless voice, "I've lost, Blaine." He swallowed thickly and sniffed again. "I really screwed everything up."

His dad just continued to gaze at him, his expression unchanging as he waited for Kurt to continue.

Kurt found he couldn't look his father in the eye as he spoke, so instead he directed his words at the wall over his shoulder. "I blamed him for all of those articles written about me and our relationship, and for the paparazzi constantly hounding me. I- I yelled at him and said some awful things." His voice was breaking again, shooting up an octave and becoming difficult to understand. "I told him that dating him was a mistake and that I wasn't happy being with him anymore." His voice trailed off with a weak, broken whimper. He didn't cry again, he was beyond crying now and had reached a numbness where all his emotions had come together and surpassed his top threshold of pain and he now couldn't feel a thing. It was more terrifying than feeling devastated and anguished.

"I left him and came here," he continued flatly. "And now I've lost the best thing that has ever happened to me."

His dad squeezed his shoulders. "I'm sure it will all work out ok, Kurt. Once you've both had some time and space to think and calm down you'll be able to sort things out." He patted Kurt's shoulder. "Why don't you go upstairs and get some sleep? You look exhausted and maybe things will look better in the morning," he suggested in an overly optimistic voice that didn't fool Kurt. He knew things wouldn't look better in the morning; if anything, they would probably look worse.

He obeyed anyway, climbing the stairs and entering his old bedroom, followed by his dad's worried gaze. After closing the door he went straight over to the bed and collapsed on it, the soft bedding providing no comfort to his battered body. He rolled onto his back and let his gaze wander around the room, taking in the relics of what seemed like another life – he felt like he was in a stranger's room.

Although he was absolutely exhausted, he didn't think he would ever be able to fall asleep with everything going through his mind, but the numbness had spread to his brain and his head was now filled with static and after an indefinite period of time, he fell into an uneasy, fitful sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm still sorry... But, look on the bright side, Blaine is on his way to Ohio!

If you know what happened in NYC on Sunday night then here's my thoughts: it hurts, but I'm hopeful. That's all I'm going to say.

Thank you for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	15. Chapter 15

It was after three in the morning by the time Blaine found Kurt's house from the address Rachel had texted him. It was a homely looking two-story with a neat garden set on a wide street in a nice neighbourhood. The world had the sort of stillness that came with it being in the midway point between midnight and dawn. Curtains were drawn on the windows of the silent houses and the street was quiet and peaceful under the velvety blanket of stars. The air was still warm despite the early hour and the cloudless sky, and Blaine was able to stand comfortably in his thin cardigan on the sidewalk looking up at Kurt's family's house.

Rationally, he knew that he should be going back towards the centre of Lima and finding a hotel to spend the night in before returning here in the morning, as Kurt and his family were bound to be asleep, but the need to see Kurt and fix things overpowered all logic and reason.

Without another thought he walked up to the wooden front door and raised his hand, eyeing the doorbell for a moment, before passing over it and knocking tentatively on the door. He hoped that Kurt would be the one to hear his knocks and answer the door rather than Burt. He remembered Burt's uncertainty about his son dating him – another celebrity – and how he hadn't seemed inclined to approve of him to begin with; he was sure Burt hated him now.

He rocked back on his heels and then forwards again as he waited with mounting anxiety for someone to answer the door. When a couple of minutes had passed and there was no sign of anyone answering, he knocked again, a little more forcefully this time. Not long after his knocks had resounded through the house, he heard hesitant footsteps approaching the door and he wrung his hands, his heart pounding up in his throat. He didn't think those footsteps belonged to Burt – he wouldn't be that uncertain about answering the door – and they didn't sound heavy enough to be Kurt's step-brother Finn, whom Kurt described as being extremely tall and clumsy, nor did they sound like a woman's, which left-

The door pulled open slowly to reveal Kurt on the other side, his hand slipping off the door when he saw who had been knocking. Blaine stopped breathing as they stared at each other. Kurt was still wearing the clothes he had last seen him in, but they were now crumpled and creased, the carefully put-together outfit now hanging off him, and he was barefoot, his feet startlingly pale against the dark fabric of his jeans. His blue eyes were bloodshot, their irises a dull grey-blue, and there were puffy bags beneath them. His face looked raw, like he had dragged rough fabric across the skin too many times, his nose was red, and his lips were dry and cracked and Blaine could see dried blood where they had been bitten. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions and with a few locks hanging limply over his forehead. To anyone else he would have looked a mess, but to Blaine he was still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

Kurt looked like he didn't have a clue what to do; he clearly hadn't expected Blaine to show up outside his house, especially not at this hour. He was looking around desperately, as if searching for someone else to come and deal with this, but both the street and the entryway behind Kurt were deserted but for the two of them. For a long moment, as Kurt continued to look around wildly, Blaine thought that he would just slam the door shut on him, but then Kurt held it open wider and stepped aside to let Blaine enter the house. A small parcel of relief burst in him as he stepped inside, not travelling very far and soon disappearing as it hit his cracked and damaged insides.

Once the door had closed softly behind him, Kurt turned and began climbing the stairs wordlessly. After a second's hesitation, Blaine followed, guessing that was what Kurt wanted him to do. He glanced around nervously when he reached the dark landing and followed Kurt into what was clearly his old bedroom, judging from the large vanity which had a few skin care products on its wooden surface, the stylish décor, and the neatly stacked Broadway musical CDs on a couple of the shelves. He closed the door behind him, as Kurt sat stiffly on the edge of a slightly rumpled double bed, before taking a few hesitant steps further into the room.

Now that they were both in a room together and the moment had come for him to actually talk to Kurt, he found he couldn't meet the other man's eyes. Instead he gazed around the room, slowly building up an image in his head of the teenage Kurt: a stylish boy who loved music and Broadway, who would sing to himself as he picked out an outfit from his vast closet and would sit at his vanity and meticulously apply creams and lotions to his skin every night. A small, fond smile curled the corner of his mouth.

He glanced back over at Kurt just as the other man raised his gaze from his lap. Their eyes met.

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered, conscious of Kurt's family sleeping a short distance away. "I am so, so sorry." His voice broke a little as Kurt stared at him unblinkingly. "You were right; I made your life a mess when I entered it. I loaded all my baggage onto you as well: more reporters who would do anything and write anything to try and make some money, more paparazzi; all things that stopped you from living your life like you used to."

He exhaled shakily and took another step closer to Kurt who just continued to stare stonily back at him. "I know it's my fault that you haven't been happy these last few weeks and I know that as long as I continue to do what I do, to make music and share it with the world, and probably even if I stopped, I'll have the media interested in what I do." He licked his dry lips and tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. "I know it's hard to have a relationship with all of that and I know you are having to compromise on a lot when you're with me, but I love you, Kurt. I love you _so _much and I want to be with you more than anything else in the world; I couldn't stand not having you in my life."

Kurt still hadn't moved a muscle, his expression hadn't changed and he showed no signs that Blaine's words had affected him in any way. Kurt wasn't interested in his apologies; it was over. His shoulders slumped as all the fight went out of him and he turned to leave, feeling completely and utterly defeated. The fragile pieces of his heart trembled and he knew that when he walked out the door they would shatter and he would be completely broken – damaged goods, irreparable. He had lost the best thing in his life thanks to the media and his own fame, something he had never asked for or really wanted.

He placed a hand on the cool metal handle and glanced back over his shoulder at Kurt, one last look before he disappeared from his life altogether. "All I want is for you to be happy." He didn't know how he was still able to speak or how he was able to say the words so calmly; he supposed his body must understand that this was important, somehow. These were his final parting words to the love of his life, his goodbye to the man he would always love. "And if for you to be happy this has to be over, then it's finished, you never have to see me again." He blinked back tears, but they spilled down his cheeks anyway and he gave up trying to hold them back – what was the point?

"Goodbye, Kurt," he whispered.

* * *

Blaine began to turn the handle in what appeared to Kurt to be in slow motion and suddenly he was no longer paralysed.

"No!" he cried out sharply.

He jumped to his feet and ran towards Blaine who had spun around at his shout. He flung his arms around Blaine's neck and crashed their lips together in a desperate kiss. He kissed Blaine like he needed him to breathe and Blaine was clutching at his waist, his hands fisted in Kurt's shirt, and was returning the kiss just as frantically. Blaine's lips were slightly salty from his tears and the taste made Kurt hold him tighter and deepen the kiss, his fingers winding into the curls at Blaine's neck.

He drew away, gasping for air and leaned his forehead against Blaine's, keeping his eyes closed, his slightly trembling lips only millimetres from Blaine's. "I didn't mean what I said," he whispered. "I'm angry and frustrated with the media; they're the ones making me unhappy, not you."

He reached his hand down and wound his fingers through Blaine's as small, panting breaths escaped Blaine's mouth and puffed against his own lips. He lifted their entwined hands up through the small space between their bodies and held them between their racing hearts, which were strengthening, the cracks in them disappearing. Blaine gripped at his hand as if worried Kurt would slip away from him again.

"Dating you was the best decision I have ever made and I _never _want you out of my life. I never want to, and never will be able to, stop loving you. I _need _you, Blaine. I don't care about what those reporters do or write anymore, you're right, I shouldn't let them dictate how I live my life and I was stupid to let them affect me so much. I can't let them drive us apart and make me lose the person I love more than anything else in the world."

Kurt opened his eyes to find Blaine's hazel eyes gazing back at him with a mixture of hope and love. "What are you saying?" he asked in a low, slightly rough voice.

"I'm saying that I don't care about the media anymore and that I'm firing my publicist when we get back to New York because he has been completely incompetent lately," he said, gazing deep into Blaine's eyes. "I'm saying that you make me happier than I have ever been and that you are the love of my life. That I'm sorry for everything I said and how much I hurt you and I want to be with you more than I have ever wanted anything in my life." He clutched tighter at Blaine's hand. "I never want to lose you," he whispered.

"You never will," Blaine whispered a little frantically, before pressing his lips to Kurt's again.

The shattered pieces of Kurt and the cracks in his heart were not just repaired; it was as if he had never been broken in the first place. There were no traces of damage left behind, no evidence of repair – no lines where cracks used to be, no rough edges where pieces were glued back together. Blaine didn't just put him back together again, he made him complete again, restored him to normal – to Kurt.

When they broke apart again, Blaine rested his head on Kurt's shoulder with a soft sigh, his nose brushing the side of Kurt's neck, the slight touch enough to send shivers of pleasure through Kurt. A sudden, loud grunting snore sounded from elsewhere in the house and Kurt was reminded of how late it was. "Come on," he murmured to Blaine, "we should get some sleep." As Blaine raised his head off his shoulder, Kurt walked back to the bed, tugging Blaine along with him.

Unable to be bothered with changing clothes, he dropped Blaine's hand, unbuttoned his shirt, and tossed it aside – it was already a crumpled mess, so there was no point in folding it neatly. He began to unzip his jeans when he noticed Blaine staring wide-eyed at him with a light blush on his cheeks. Kurt glanced down at his pale chest, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "Um-" he began, but Blaine shook his head at him.

"You're beautiful," he said in a matter-of-fact tone like he was stating an undeniable truth – the sky is blue, the Earth moves around the sun, _you are beautiful_. His voice also held a hint of wonder, like Kurt was something completely extraordinary. "You are so beautiful." He stepped closer to Kurt and raised a quivering hand and, after a moment's hesitation, lightly traced his fingers over the planes of Kurt's chest.

Kurt trembled under his touch, his muscles quivering visibly by the time Blaine's fingers caressed over his stomach, before being removed. Their eyes met and Blaine smiled at him before sitting down on the edge of the bed and beginning to take off his shoes. Swallowing, Kurt turned slightly away from him and tugged off his tight jeans, dropping them on the floor on top of his shirt and then stepping over to the bed and sliding under the blankets without looking at Blaine. He shut his eyes when he heard Blaine's shirt hit the floor, curling his legs up when there was the sound of a zipper being undone. Blaine's jeans were dropped on the floor and there was a moment of silence, then footsteps on the carpet. The lamp clicked off and the blankets and mattress moved slightly as Blaine slid into bed next to him.

Kurt was barely breathing and he could sense Blaine lying rigidly near the edge of the bed. Though they had shared a bed many times before, there was something different about being in bed together wearing nothing but boxer shorts. Kurt laid there stiffly, not daring to move, and listening to the soft sounds of Blaine's breathing. He rolled over, unable to stand being this close to Blaine and not touching him. He slid carefully over until the warmth of Blaine's body touched his skin and then he slowly and carefully draped an arm over Blaine's waist. Blaine exhaled deeply and relaxed, his arm moving to wrap around Kurt's shoulders and hold him close. He ducked his head to place a soft kiss to Kurt's head.

"Goodnight, Kurt," he whispered into Kurt's hair.

Kurt nuzzled closer to Blaine, his cheek on his boyfriend's chest. "Goodnight."

* * *

When Blaine woke he was filled with that heavy, fuzzy feeling of having slept for a long time. Yet, even knowing that he had slept hours and that it must be late in the day from the brightness of the light in the room which turned the insides of his eyelids a reddish-pink, he didn't attempt to move or open his eyes. He was warm and comfortable with Kurt's head resting on his chest and the smooth skin of Kurt's back under his fingertips. Kurt's soft, steady breathing filled his ears and, listening to it, he could barely believe that yesterday he had thought he had lost him forever. The memory encouraged him to open his eyes as he was filled with the need to see his boyfriend.

All evidence of the pain Kurt had gone through over the last twenty-four hours was gone. The skin on his face was pale and clear again, no longer red and raw; the puffy bags under his eyes were gone; his pink lips, slightly parted in sleep, were smoother and were healing where they had been cracked and bitten; his hair was ruffled with sleep, soft chestnut locks falling over his forehead and onto Blaine's chest; his forehead was no longer creased with pain and instead was smooth and his face was relaxed and almost vulnerable as he slept. Blaine resisted the temptation to stroke his thumb along the line of Kurt's cheekbone and the curve of his jaw, to brush the hair back from his forehead and press a soft kiss to the skin there, not wanting to wake him. Instead, he just contented himself with the feel of Kurt's skin against his and Kurt's breath caressing his collarbone, his eyelashes fluttering lightly on his skin as he dreamed. He closed his eyes again, floating in the feeling, scent, and sound of Kurt.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he felt Kurt stir, but he had a feeling he may have drifted into a doze at some point. He opened his eyes as Kurt shifted against him, mumbling something into Blaine's collarbone as he nuzzled against it. Rubbing Kurt's shoulder blades, he ducked his head and kissed the top of Kurt's head.

"Blaine?" Kurt said in a soft, sleepy voice.

Blaine hummed in response, lightly running a finger down the bumps of Kurt's spine.

"I love you," Kurt said in a louder voice, tilting his head up and rolling over so he was partly on top of Blaine, his belly on Blaine's hip and his left leg in the space between Blaine's. He rested his chin on Blaine's chest and gazed up at him, the remaining traces of sleep fading from his eyes.

Blaine smiled gently down at him, his hand stilling halfway down Kurt's back as he raised his other hand to softly caress Kurt's cheek. "I love you, too."

They held gazes for a long moment, and then Kurt lowered his eyes to Blaine's chest and tilted his head down. Blaine thought he was going to rest his head against him again and his heart stuttered when Kurt began placing open-mouthed kisses to his chest.

His eyes fluttered shut as Kurt kissed his way up to his neck. He let his hand trail the rest of the way down Kurt's back, feeling Kurt shiver as he got lower. When he reached the small of his back, his fingers skimming the waistband of Kurt's boxers, Kurt groaned and removed his lips from Blaine's neck where he had been sucking a mark onto the skin and pressed his lips to Blaine's, kissing him hungrily. Blaine moaned against his mouth and gathered Kurt closer, pulling him down so that he was hovering over him, straddling his hips.

Blaine's heart was pounding almost painfully and his breath was puffing out of him in loud pants whenever their lips detached. He sucked on Kurt's tongue as his boyfriend moaned into his mouth, his hands exploring the bare skin of Blaine's chest.

Kurt lowered his hips and Blaine whimpered, heat coursing through him as his stomach twisted and coiled with pleasure. "Kurt…" he groaned as his boyfriend nipped at his neck and smoothed over the marks with his tongue.

He gripped Kurt's hips, his fingers probably leaving bruises on the pale skin – not that Kurt seemed to mind; he kissed and licked at Blaine's collarbone, the palm of his hand smoothing over Blaine's stomach, the drag of his hands over Blaine's skin and muscles setting his nerves on fire with pleasure.

The air in the room was becoming hotter and closer and it was difficult to breathe in anything but gasping pants. Kurt's body was hot and trembling against his as he gently rolled them over, their legs tangling together.

"Love…you," Kurt gasped between hungry kisses. "I'm sorry…I almost let you go."

Blaine smoothed Kurt's cheek with his thumb. "Shh, we didn't lose each other and I love you, that's all that matters," he whispered, leaning in and kissing Kurt slowly and sweetly.

After a moment Kurt pushed back eagerly against his mouth, sucking at his lower lip and rolling his hips up. Blaine groaned into his mouth as heat flooded his stomach. One of Kurt's hands tangled in his hair while the other dragged across his back, his fingernails scratching gently at the skin. Blaine pulled back a little to look into Kurt's eyes, rubbing his thumb over his hipbone as he silently asked him if he was sure he wanted this – not that he really needed further confirmation than Kurt's passionate kisses, hot skin, and eyes darkened with love and lust, but he felt that it was the right thing to do before they joined in the upmost expression of love.

In response, Kurt lifted a hand and lovingly caressed Blaine's face. "I love you," he said softly. The words could never be said or heard too many times.

With a smile, Blaine leaned back down again so his lips met Kurt's, and closed the space between their bodies.

* * *

**A/N: **:)

And the angst is over... for now ;)

That's the first time I've put a toe over the M-rating line. I think it would have ruined the mood a bit if I had gone into explicit detail.

Thank you for reading and for all of the reviews! Hearing your thoughts on this story really does make my day.

And thanks once again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	16. Chapter 16

Kurt sat at his vanity applying skin creams to his face, gently rubbing the moisturising products into his skin. In the mirror, over the shoulder of his own reflection, he could see Blaine lying on his stomach on the bed, his chin resting on his folded hands, watching him. He was dressed in an old pair of Kurt's sweatpants, which were too long in the legs for him, and one of Kurt's t-shirts, which clung to his chest and accentuated the swell of his biceps. His hair was still damp from his shower and dark curls clung to his forehead. He hadn't shaved in over a day and there was a dark shadow around his jaw. Every time Kurt glanced at this reflection his stomach would squeeze pleasantly and he would have to avert his eyes, his teeth gently biting down on his bottom lip.

"Do your producers know you won't be in to work today?" Blaine asked lazily, sounding half-asleep.

Kurt nodded, rubbing a small smear of cream into his nose. "I had Rachel call them and say I would be out of New York for a few days."

"What will they do about the show you were supposed to tape today?"

Kurt shrugged, unbothered by the fact that he was skipping a taping of his own show. "We're always a few shows ahead of the airing schedule, so either a re-run will be shown one day or I'll have to film on a Saturday to make up for it." He replaced the lid on the tub of cream he had been using. "That's why I'm not switching my phone on, I know Taylor will want to yell at me to go back to New York, but I'm not ready to return to all of that yet," he admitted, spinning round on his chair to face Blaine.

The corners of Blaine's mouth tugged up into a small smile. "Me neither," he said softly. "Ohio may be boring and small-town compared to New York, but it is actually nice being back here." He paused, looking faintly amused. "Now _there's _something I never thought I'd say."

Kurt stood and went to join him on the bed, sitting down by his head and letting his hand trail lightly through Blaine's curls. He smiled when Blaine sighed and closed his eyes at his touch. "What do you mean _'it's nice being back here'_? You haven't left this room since you got here; you could be anywhere!"

Blaine cracked open an eye and smirked up at him. "Yeah, and I'm having a _very _nice time."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt gently smacked the top of his head, but he couldn't prevent the smile from spreading across his face, no matter how hard he fought against it. Blaine just laughed softly and shut his eyes again, relaxing under Kurt's touch and going almost boneless against the bed.

Kurt did feel a bit bad about just taking off out of New York on a Thursday night when lots of people – producers, crew members, assistants, and an audience – were expecting him to be at the studios the next day to tape a show as usual. He felt a twinge of guilt at all the trouble Taylor would have gone through last night after receiving Rachel's phone call, but as he looked down at Blaine lying next to him, lashes fanned against his cheeks and his mouth curved in a small smile, all the guilt vanished. They may have gotten here under horrible circumstances, but he and Blaine needed this time here together and he wouldn't regret any of it, even though he should be working right now.

There was a tentative knock at the door and Kurt suddenly remembered that his family had no idea that Blaine was here. He met Blaine's slightly panicked gaze and smiled reassuringly at him. "I'll explain why you're here, it'll be fine," he assured him, getting to his feet and heading over to the door.

He heard the rustling of sheets and glanced over his shoulder to see Blaine scrambling into a sitting position. "Your family have never met me face-to-face before and they must hate me now after everything that happened yesterday," Blaine panicked. "Oh God, your dad was never keen on me to begin with and I proved his initial feelings right!" He wrung his hands together.

There was another knock. "Kurt, are you alright?" his dad's voice asked. "Are you awake?"

"Just a minute!" he called through the door. He hurried back across the room to Blaine, taking his hands in both of his. "Blaine, you have done _nothing wrong_. What happened yesterday was the fault of the media and myself."

Blaine started to protest, but Kurt cut him off. "You're a wonderful person Blaine, and my family will see that. I'll explain everything to them." He pressed a fierce kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "I love you and my family will love you as well." After giving him another quick peck on the lips, he crossed the room and opened the door just wide enough for him to slip out into the hallway.

His dad eyed him for a moment, his gaze travelling the length of him before returning to his face. He looked at him expectantly.

Despite his reassuring words to Blaine, Kurt felt his stomach churn with nerves. "Morning, Dad," he said weakly.

Burt looked pointedly at his watch. "It's almost three in the afternoon."

Kurt prodded at the carpet with his big toe. "Um, yeah, I was pretty worn out last night so I slept late."

Burt stared at him. "Uh huh," he said slowly. When Kurt didn't say anything else, just continued to assault the carpet with his foot whilst frantically trying to think how to explain the situation with Blaine to him, he stated matter-of-factly, "You've sorted things out with Blaine."

Kurt nodded, started to nibble apprehensively on his bottom lip, then stopped himself – his lips would be a split, cracked mess if he kept doing that. "Uh, y-yeah," he said roughly. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, he actually flew in from New York last night – or really early this morning, actually – and came over here to work things out." When his dad just continued to watch him impassively, he added hastily, "None of it was Blaine's fault, he's an amazing guy and didn't do anything wrong and-"

Burt held up a hand to stop him and Kurt broke off, gazing at him anxiously, his foot still worrying at the carpet. "I don't blame Blaine for the state you arrived here in last night and it wasn't your fault either, it's all those reporters and paparazzi assholes." He smiled at Kurt. "I have nothing against Blaine, so you can both stop worrying." He laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze before turning away. "You two should come down and get something to eat; you must be hungry."

Kurt nodded; relief making his shoulders sag as the tension was released from them. "We'll be down in a minute." He spun around and began opening his bedroom door.

"Oh, and Kurt?"

Kurt glanced over his shoulder to see that his dad had paused by the top of the stairs. "If you and Blaine want to continue sharing a bed while you're both in this house then just remember that your family is here as well and the house isn't that big; we can hear some of what goes on upstairs from downstairs."

Heat flooded Kurt's face as his dad nodded at him and set off down the stairs. Fumbling with the door handle, Kurt pulled his door open and slipped back into his room. Blaine looked up from where he had been nervously fidgeting with a loose thread on the sheets to see Kurt shut the door and lean against it, his face flaming.

"What did you dad say?" Blaine asked. "Does he hate me?"

Kurt shook his head. "He knows what we were doing earlier, I think they all heard," he said, mortified.

Blaine's face crinkled in confusion. "What we were do-" His frown cleared suddenly. "_Oh._" A blush stained his cheeks.

"He's expecting us downstairs to have something to eat in a few minutes."

Blaine stared at him. "I'm not sitting down there with your dad when he knows we slept together!" He buried his face in his hands. "They heard us? Oh _God_," he groaned into his hands.

Kurt let his head fall back against the door with a soft thud. He wouldn't be able to look his dad in the eye for the rest of the weekend.

"Kurt? Blaine?" Carole's voice called up the stairs. "I've made you both some chicken pie."

Blaine lifted his head upon hearing Carole's voice. "We're going to have to go down there, aren't we?" he asked, not sounding particularly thrilled at the thought.

Kurt nodded. "Yes, we are." He groaned loudly, a sudden thought occurring to him. "I really hope Finn isn't there, his brain-to-mouth filter is virtually non-existent."

Blaine got to his feet and shuffled over to join him by the door, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. Kurt reached out to tug the neck of Blaine's t-shirt up so it covered the large mark on his neck. Then, taking a deep breath, as though he was about to walk out to face a firing squad, he opened the door and led Blaine down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Burt and Carole were sitting at the table with cups of coffee in front of them talking about one of Burt's recent customers at the garage. Kurt felt Blaine tense when they both looked up at the sound of their arrival and Kurt smoothed his thumb over his knuckles.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel," Blaine all but squeaked out. "Sorry for showing up here so late at night and unannounced."

Carole smiled warmly at him. "Don't worry about it; we know you needed to see Kurt."

Blaine darted a quick, nervous glance at Burt as he and Kurt sat down at the table.

"You're always welcome in this house, Blaine," Burt told him, and Kurt felt Blaine relax a little next to him. Kurt let go of his hand after one last squeeze and picked up his cutlery.

"Where's Finn?" he asked as he speared some vegetables with his fork and Blaine hesitantly began to eat next to him.

"At the garage," Burt replied, swallowing a mouthful of coffee. "Had to finish repairing a car to return to a customer today." He set his mug down on the table and glanced between Kurt and Blaine. "So, have you two decided what you're going to do about all those media folks bothering you?"

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a quick glance. "Not really, no," Kurt said. "I need to fire my publicist for not doing his job, but we haven't thought much beyond that. Though getting a decent publicist will help a lot."

Carole frowned. "I always thought your publicist did a pretty good job. You've had him for years, what made him suddenly stop doing his job?"

Kurt shrugged, shaking his head. "I have no idea; I always thought he was decent as well."

"Maybe he was getting paid by someone to let those articles be published," Blaine suggested darkly. "It's happened before."

Kurt stabbed viciously at his food. "It doesn't matter why he suddenly did it, I'm not going to listen to his excuses, he's fired and that's it."

Burt nodded contemplatively. "It wouldn't hurt if you both had bodyguards with you when you go out anywhere." At Kurt's disapproving look, he added, "Just until all of this dies down."

"Which has to be soon, right?" Carole questioned anxiously. "They are bound to get bored of writing all this stuff soon."

Blaine nodded solemnly. "They should." He glanced quickly at Kurt. "I thought they would have moved on from pestering us daily by now, but they're still getting information on our private lives – most of it false – from somewhere."

Frowning down at his plate, Kurt caught Carole and Burt exchanging a worried look in the periphery of his vision. As little as he and Blaine knew about this mysterious source or sources that the media had – and they knew next to nothing – he had a suspicion that it was the work of one person, a theory that got stronger every time he heard about a new article. All the recent quotes and rumours from this source had the same message: Kurt was needy, possessive, and using Blaine for his money and fame. Whoever this source was, they didn't like him dating Blaine for some reason. Kurt had a strong gut feeling that this source was the same person who had been spying on them in Central Park.

Burt sipped at his coffee. "I think all you can really do is keep a low profile, get a new publicist, and consider having a bodyguard to keep the paparazzi at a comfortable distance." His eyes flickered between Kurt and Blaine and he let out a small sigh. "It would be better if you could stay here for a couple of weeks or so until things die down in New York, but I know that's not possible with you both being so busy with work."

Kurt nodded and exchanged another quick look with Blaine, whose mouth was curved up in a small, wistful smile. He knew Blaine would love to be able to stay here for longer and he would as well, but there was just no way it was possible at this time; his filming schedule was too full and Blaine was writing and preparing for an international tour in December.

"Thanksgiving," Kurt said firmly, his gaze on Blaine's face. "We'll come here for Thanksgiving."

"Wonderful!" Carole exclaimed happily.

"But won't you want to spend the holiday with your own family, Blaine?"

Blaine shook his head, dragging his gaze away from Kurt to look at Carole. "No," he said stiffly, "I wasn't planning on spending it with them."

Before anyone could comment on this, the front door slammed and a few seconds later, Finn strode into the kitchen looking around expectantly. "I smell chicken pie, can I have some? I'm starving!" He suddenly spotted Kurt and Blaine sitting at the table. "Oh, hey, Kurt!" His gaze shifted to Blaine. "And you're Blaine, right? That musician?"

Blaine cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, that's me." He smiled tentatively up at the tall man towering over him. "It's nice to meet you."

Finn nodded. "Likewise, though I would have preferred to meet my step-brother's boyfriend before I heard him moaning your name."

"_Finn!_" Kurt squeaked in horror, heat flooding his cheeks as Blaine ducked his head, his face bright red.

"What?" Finn asked innocently as he accepted a plate of food from Carole who looked like she was pretending she couldn't hear the conversation. "It's the truth." He sank down into the chair Burt – who was now washing dishes rather loudly – had abandoned shortly after Finn had walked into the room.

Kurt just shook his head accusingly at him and grabbed Blaine's hand, pulling his still blushing boyfriend to his feet. "We're going to go call Rachel and Taylor and explain what's going on," he announced to the kitchen at large.

Carole smiled at them. "That's probably a good idea, I'm sure they're worried."

Burt just grunted his approval, his gaze still firmly fixed on the sink in front of him and Finn continued to shovel food into his mouth. Kurt tugged Blaine out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room.

As soon as Kurt closed the door behind him, Blaine groaned loudly. "You were right about Finn's lack of filter."

Kurt dropped Blaine's hand and pressed the backs of his hands against his still-warm cheeks, valiantly trying to cool them down. "I'm not going to be able to look my dad in the eye ever again, never mind the rest of the weekend."

Blaine leant forward and kissed the tip of his nose, smiling up at him reassuringly. "He's going to have to accept the fact that you aren't a kid anymore soon."

"Yes, but still, did he have to _hear_ us?" Kurt said despairingly.

Blaine grinned at him mischievously. "Don't be so loud in the future then," he said in a low voice, almost a growl.

Kurt moaned softly and pressed his lips against Blaine's, pulling his boyfriend roughly towards him so their bodies were pressed together. When Blaine's fingers began trailing lazily down his ribs, Kurt reluctantly pulled away. "I need to call Rachel and Taylor and my family is downstairs, remember. I'm sure they don't want a repeat of earlier." Smiling and pecking Blaine's pout, he stepped out of Blaine's arms to go over to the nightstand to get his phone.

Blaine caught at his wrist. "Hold on a second." Kurt stopped and turned back to look at him curiously.

Blaine's eyes searched his. "We'll be ok now, won't we? Even with the press and everything?"

Kurt's gaze softened as he raised a hand to smooth out a wrinkle in Blaine's shirt. "Yes," he replied, nodding. "If the press situation continues to be as bad as it has been then I can't promise I won't get frustrated and stressed with it all, but I _can_ promise you I won't react the way I did yesterday." He squeezed at the hand Blaine had just caught in his. "I love you and there's no way I could leave you like that again, not after knowing how awful it is thinking I'd lost you forever."

Blaine nodded, looking satisfied. "Ok," he whispered. He stepped forward and brushed his lips over Kurt's in a brief, sweet kiss. "Let's hope that a new publicist and maybe bodyguards will help improve things."

"Let's hope so," Kurt agreed, before going to fetch his phone.

* * *

"-and that was how we discovered that the Lima Bean is the best place for coffee in Lima," Kurt concluded, taking a sip of his coffee. He set the cup down again. "I'm all for trying out new places, but Rachel's idea of trying out _every_ coffee shop in the area wasn't the best."

Blaine chuckled and glanced around the Lima Bean coffee shop. Though it was fairly busy, they hadn't been approached by anyone. It was such a nice change to be able to sit in a café without having paparazzi lurking around outside the doors and not being able to have some privacy. He didn't mind fans coming up to talk to him, he liked interacting with them, he wouldn't be where he was today if it wasn't for them, but what he didn't like was nosy, disrespectful people who just wanted to try and get an autograph to sell or some information that could be turned into an article. Unfortunately, lately, it had been more of the latter that had been approaching him and Kurt whenever they were out in New York.

Smiling across the table at his boyfriend, Blaine said, "I stand by what I said yesterday: it's nice being back in Ohio."

Kurt nodded in agreement, understanding what was on Blaine's mind. "It's a pity we have to leave tomorrow, but we'll be back in November for Thanksgiving."

The door of the coffee shop opened just as Blaine was about to reply and a familiar figure walked in. Blaine frowned at the woman as she rummaged through her purse. Her face was turned away and her hair was styled differently, but he was positive…

The woman looked up and approached the counter and Blaine got a clear view of her face.

It was his mother.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape route. He wanted to leave, now, before she saw him.

"Blaine, are you ok?"

Blaine snapped his gaze back to Kurt who was watching him with concern. "Um-" His gaze flickered over Kurt's shoulder to see his mother handing over some money to the barista. He looked back at Kurt. "My- My mother just walked in. She's at the counter just now," he said quietly.

Kurt's eyes widened and he twitched in his seat, wanting to look round at her but worried he would draw attention to them if he did so. "Do you want to leave?" he asked. Kurt knew the whole story behind Blaine's difficult relationship with his parents – his disgusted father and disappointed mother.

Nodding, Blaine fiddled apprehensively with the lid of his coffee cup as he watched his mother text on her phone while waiting for her coffee. "Can we, please?"

"Of course." Kurt got to his feet and picked up his coffee. After shooting a quick glance at the counter, he put his body between Blaine and the counter as they walked swiftly towards the exit. They were almost at the door and Blaine had just started to breathe a sigh of relief when-

"Blaine?"

He froze and next to him Kurt came to a sudden halt, his body as tense as his own. He considered for a second just grabbing Kurt's hand and sprinting out the doors, but he couldn't run from his family forever. He needed to stop running from his problems, that was what his song was about, wasn't it? Having the strength and courage to stand up to people who tried to tell him to change who he was.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly spun around. His mother was standing a few feet behind him, a coffee cup in her hand and an expression of shock on her face. She clearly hadn't expected to run into her son here any more than Blaine had expected her to be here.

Kurt took one of his trembling hands and his touch shot a bolt of courage through him. "Hi, mom," he said, his voice thankfully not quivering.

She just blinked at him and then her gaze flicked down to take in his and Kurt's entwined hands, before returning to his face again. Behind the slowly fading shock her expression was unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" she asked eventually, a bite of something Blaine couldn't quite discern in her voice. "I thought you lived in New York."

Kurt gripped his hand tighter and Blaine knew what he was thinking: how could a mother care so little about her son that she wasn't really sure where he lived? The sting of this was dull to Blaine now; he was used to his parents not bothering to really know their son, to actually care about him and take an interest in his life. He had been living with that since he was fourteen, since he came out to his parents.

He swallowed. "I _do_ live in New York; I'm just here for the weekend."

Her gaze flickered over Kurt again and she took in his appearance with a disapproving sweep of her eyes. "I see," she said shortly.

He didn't want to do it, he wanted to put himself between Kurt and his mother's judging, insolent glare, but the habit of introducing Kurt was hammered into him and besides, who cared what his mother thought about Kurt? Her opinion ceased to matter the moment she began to remove herself from his life.

"Mom, this is my boyfriend, Kurt Hummel."

Her eyes flashed at the word 'boyfriend' and her body stiffened as her eyes frantically scanned the coffee shop, checking if anybody had overheard.

Kurt smiled tightly at her. "It's nice to meet you," he said levelly.

Her gaze swept Kurt again. "You're the one with that talk show, aren't you?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes."

She held herself a little taller and gave a small, disapproving sniff and Blaine gritted his teeth. She sized Kurt and Blaine up for a moment and then the corners of her tight mouth curled up in a cold smile. "Thanksgiving is coming up, what are your plans, Blaine?" she asked in a bright voice at odds with her shadowed eyes.

"Kurt and I are actually coming back here to Lima to spend it with his family," he replied cautiously.

His mother nodded as if this answer pleased her. "Well then, you can come and pay your father and me a visit. We haven't seen you in ages."

Blaine narrowed his eyes – _and whose fault was that?_

She indicated Kurt with a nod of her head. "Kurt will be welcome as well, of course. Your father will want to meet your…" she paused for half a second, "boyfriend," she finished in a lower voice.

Blaine shot a quick, slightly panicked glance at Kurt, but before he had the chance to say anything in response, his mother glanced at her watch and adjusted her purse.

"I'll call you with the details closer to the time; I've got to run now." She nodded at them both. "I'll see you both at Thanksgiving." She walked around them and pushed the door open, leaving the coffee shop.

Blaine stared at the spot where his mother had stood, his hands trembling. Kurt smoothed his thumb over his knuckles. "Honey?"

He turned anguished eyes onto his boyfriend. "I- She-" he stuttered. "Fuck, I have to see them next month! I haven't spoken to my father in _years_! He thinks I'm a disgrace to the family, that I'm disgusting and worthless and now I have to-" He broke off with an infuriated sigh.

"You don't have to go," Kurt said, his thumb still stroking soothing patterns onto the back of Blaine's hand. "If you don't want to go, then don't."

"I really don't want to go," Blaine said, "but I'm done with running away from my problems all the time. If my parents want to see me, then fine, they will, but if they think I'm going to just sit there and take their criticisms and insults then they're wrong. I'm not a kid anymore; I don't need them in my life if they don't like who I am," he said firmly. He squeezed Kurt's hand. "You don't have to come if you don't want to; they're bound to say something degrading to you. You don't have to sit through all that."

Kurt dropped his hand to gently brush a loose curl back off his forehead, his fingers lingering on the skin. "I'll be there with you. I don't care what they say about me, I'll be there supporting you." He bent to kiss him, ignoring the frown an older woman sitting nearby was sending them. "I'll always be there with you," he whispered when he pulled away.

Blaine smiled softly at him as they left the Lima Bean, heading back to Kurt's house – somewhere where people actually approved of their relationship and cared about them.

* * *

**A/N: **They just start to solve one problem and then another one crops up. I'm not giving them an easy time, am I?

So I've managed to update this story every Wednesday and Saturday thanks to having a beta who can go through the chapters faster than Blaine can jump in front of a slushy to protect Kurt, but I may not be able to update this Saturday. I'm going to Reading Festival on Friday and am working all day Saturday, so I won't have as much time to get the chapter ready to be posted. I'll try, but I can't promise anything (and this is all subject to my beta having read the chapter by Saturday as well). If I can't manage Saturday then I'll post it as soon as I get back from work on Sunday.

Thanks again for reading, reviewing, and to all the people who have recently put this story on their alerts and/or favourites!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	17. Chapter 17

The other customers at the small coffee shop barely seemed to notice the tall, hulking man leaning against the brick wall just outside the door. Most just entered the café without even looking at him, acting as if he were nothing more than another signpost, but the occasional person who passed by did glance at him curiously. The man ignored these occasional stares and just continued to look coolly unbothered as he watched the cars rumble by on the road and the New Yorkers walk by him on the sidewalk.

Inside the coffee shop, sitting at one of the small round tables and swirling the coffee around his cup thoughtfully, Kurt had his gaze trained on the muscular man leaning by the doors. After a bit of persuasion from Blaine and his dad, he had gotten himself a bodyguard who now accompanied him whenever he went out in public. It was annoying not being able to spontaneously decide to go out for coffee and instead have to call his bodyguard and wait for him to arrive, but he had to admit that his presence was helping a lot.

Since hiring the bodyguard a few days ago, he hadn't felt pressured into answering any questions from demanding paparazzi, and the numbers of them skulking around outside his apartment building and studios had significantly decreased. Now that it was harder for them to get decent pictures and practically impossible to get answers to any of their questions, fewer of them seemed inclined to hang around. He and Blaine were now able to come and go from his apartment with relative ease and they no longer needed a bodyguard with them if they were just travelling between a car and the building, which was nice as it meant spontaneous visits to each other were easy again. But, despite all of this, Kurt longed for the days when he wouldn't need a bodyguard anymore – if they ever came.

The chair opposite him scraped along the floor and Kurt looked away from his bodyguard as Rachel set her coffee down on the table and dropped down into the chair.

"I didn't realise it was so hard to make a coffee with soy milk," she grumbled, shooting one of the baristas – a flustered looking teenage girl – a glare. "It's not rocket science."

Kurt just rolled his eyes. "Give her a break; it looks like it's her first day."

Rachel just huffed and peeled back the lid of her cup to examine it critically. Seemingly satisfied, she replaced the lid and took a sip. "So, how are you?" she asked, peering at him closely. "I haven't had a chance to really talk to you since you got back from Lima. How's the whole bodyguard thing working out?"

Kurt nodded, glancing briefly over at his bodyguard again. "The situation with the media has definitely improved since I hired him and it's great not being pestered all the time." He swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "I can't wait to not need him anymore, though."

Rachel sat back in her chair. "Yeah, it would be nice to get your privacy back again." She took a contemplative drink of coffee, her eyes slightly unfocused as she stared straight ahead of her.

Setting her cup back on the table, she leaned forwards again and rested her elbows on the table. "So, what all happened out in Lima? You haven't gotten the chance to tell me the whole story yet."

And so, with his eyes on the table as he fidgeted with a paper napkin, he told Rachel of how he had arrived at his family's house in Lima, devastated at the thought that he had lost Blaine, and how Blaine had shown up outside his house at three in the morning. He had to hold back tears and grip tightly at his creased and torn napkin with shaking hands as he recounted the conversation they'd had in his bedroom, skipping over the detail that he and Blaine had shared his bed that night wearing very little clothing.

Rachel listened intently and smiled gently at him when he paused to take a drink of coffee after finishing his description of that night. "I knew after telling Blaine that you were in Lima and he raced out the door after you that you would fix things." She pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I mean, a part of me worried that it was over, especially seeing as I didn't know what had happened, but I heard how broken you sounded on the phone and Blaine was an absolute mess when he showed up at our apartment looking for you. I could tell just how much you loved each other and deep down I knew you wouldn't give up on each other."

Kurt sniffed and reached for his cup, taking another large swallow, hoping the warm liquid would soothe his trembling at the memory of that night and return his composure.

"What happened the next day?" Rachel asked curiously once Kurt had recovered.

"Well-" He broke off as the memory of waking up with Blaine filled him: Blaine's lips on his, kissing him hungrily; hot skin pressed against hot skin; the muscles of Blaine's belly tensing under his hand; Blaine hovering over him, sucking marks onto his neck, chest, and collarbone; hands sliding over each other; gasps and moans filling the room…

"Um-" He could feel his face turning red under Rachel's gaze and he ducked his head and fidgeted with his napkin again, smoothing out the crumpled white square. "We- I, um-"

Rachel raised an eyebrow as she watched Kurt stutter and stumble over his words, his cheeks flaming.

"I- I let my dad know that Blaine had come over and, um-"

Rachel shook her head at him, a slowly widening smirk appearing on her face as if she could read Kurt's mind and knew _exactly _what had happened. Her next words only reinforced this. "What happened before you spoke to your dad? You and Blaine have a more physical make-up?"

Kurt was now blushing so hard he wouldn't be surprised if Rachel could feel the heat radiating off him. "We kissed quite a bit, yes," he said, not sounding very convincing even to his own ears.

Rachel's smirk – if possible – got even wider. "_And?_" she pressed.

Giving in, Kurt sighed heavily and raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, we had sex. Happy?"

Rachel squealed so loudly that just about everyone in the small coffee shop glanced over curiously at her, some looking a little startled.

"_Rachel!_" Kurt hissed, his face still burning under the stares from all the other people in the café.

She flapped her hands, still grinning broadly at him. "Sorry! Sorry!" She paused as people gradually averted their attention from them and their conversation became completely private once more. She smiled at him mischievously. "So how was it?"

Kurt glared at his friend as another shot of heat and colour flooded his face. "Rachel!" he exclaimed, aghast. "I am _not _answering that," he informed her firmly. "And why do you even want to know? Learn the personal boundary line!"

"Fine! Fine!" Rachel sighed, looking a little disappointed. "So, you talked to Carole and Burt about the problems with the media?" she prompted.

Kurt nodded, feeling the colour slowly starting to recede from his face. "My dad was the one who suggested that I get a bodyguard." He eyed the man in the dark jacket who stood outside the coffee shop, not looking irritated with having to wait around outside a café for hours, but then again, he was being paid for it.

"We talked about my publicist-"

Rachel straightened suddenly. "Oh, yeah, you fired him, didn't you?" she interjected.

Nodding again, Kurt prodded at the side of his coffee cup. "Yeah, I did, seeing as he just suddenly stopped doing his job. I called him the day we got back from Lima and told him he was out of a job." He shook his head slightly. "He argued with me, of course, tried to explain why he hadn't done anything about all those articles that were published about me, but I didn't listen to any of his excuses. I fired him and that was that," he said, glancing across at Rachel who was nodding slowly at him.

"Have you found a new publicist yet?" she asked.

"Yeah, I hired a new guy yesterday. He's got a good reputation, so," he shrugged, "we'll see how it goes."

Rachel smiled at him. "Hopefully all those articles will stop now."

Kurt just nodded, his mind already moved on to remembering what happened on Saturday morning. "We ran into Blaine's mom at the Lima Bean," he said before Rachel got the chance to ask if anything else interesting had happened over the weekend.

Setting down the coffee cup that had been half-way to her mouth, Rachel gazed at him intensely; all traces of her earlier smile gone from her face. "Oh." She hesitated, and then said cautiously, "Blaine- Blaine doesn't get along well with his parents, does he?"

Kurt shook his head, his mouth set in a tight line. "They don't like that he's gay and barely keep in contact with him." He pushed his coffee aside with a frown. "His mom just looked so disapproving and indifferent when she spoke to us; it was like she was talking to an old friend or something, not her son." He ran a hand through his hair, something he used to rarely do since he spent so long styling it carefully. "She wasn't pleased to learn that Blaine and I are dating." He gave Rachel a small, twisted smile. "She looked pretty disgusted by it actually, and extremely disappointed, like a tiny part of her had still hoped that Blaine would bring home a girl one day."

Rachel looked horrified. "That's awful; I can't imagine having parents so unsupportive of who I am."

Kurt shook his head bitterly. "They are more than just unsupportive: they're mortified that Blaine is their son, and bitterly disappointed in him." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. He could still scarcely believe that Blaine's parents treated him that way when he was such a talented, caring, sweet guy who had achieved so much, and achieved it all without any support from his family. He couldn't imagine getting to where he was today without the constant, unwavering love and support from his dad and – since junior year of high school – Carole. He had tried to handle bullying in high school by himself and hadn't managed for very long before he had had to tell his father what was going on. He couldn't begin to imagine how hard it must have been for Blaine to go through worse than him before he went to Dalton and have no one who cared.

"His mother asked us to visit her and his father over Thanksgiving," he told a disturbed-looking Rachel.

She gaped at him. "You can't be thinking of going?" Her forehead creased and her lips parted in horror when she saw Kurt's small shrug. "You can't be serious! They sound absolutely awful! They'll probably just insult you and talk about how wrong you both are!"

"Blaine wants to go – he said he's sick of running from his problems – so I'm going with him," Kurt stated simply, as if that was that. And it was; he would never consider letting Blaine go alone, he would always support him.

Seeing Rachel open her mouth about to argue, he shook his head. "We're going, Rachel," he told her firmly, his tone indicating that the matter was settled and there was nothing she could say that would change his mind.

There was a couple of minutes of silence where Rachel sipped at her coffee, her gaze flicking to Kurt every few seconds, her eyes troubled, and Kurt thought about Blaine and his parents.

Then Kurt rested his elbows on the table and lowered his head, running his hands through his hair again, dragging his fingers through it as if he were in pain. And he was in pain, pain at how Blaine's parents treated him.

"I just feel so bad for him, Rach," he whispered in anguish, startling Rachel out of her thoughts. "Since he was fourteen he's been on his own. I hate to think how horrible and scary that must have been, building up the courage to come out to his parents only for them to treat him like he had some form of contagious, fatal disease. And he was being harassed at school and _no one_ cared."

He lifted his head to see Rachel watching him with wide eyes full of horror, anger, and sympathy.

He shook his head. "No one cared," he repeated, his voice breaking slightly, "not the teachers at the school, not his parents… It took him being badly beaten up for his parents to finally do something about it and send him to Dalton. Their way of showing that they do care: transferring him to a new school before people at his old one killed him," he said in a harsh, sarcastic voice. "Pity it took a hospital trip for them to show a little bit of concern for their son."

He shook his head wearily, suddenly feeling drained. "He had nobody during his rise to fame – no support or encouragement. He had nobody when he was touring around the world, only getting the occasional phone call from his mother who probably just likes to remind him how disappointed she is in him," he said bitterly. He met Rachel's eyes. "You know how small and ashamed you feel when someone says they're disappointed in you? It's a lot worse than someone being angry at you. Imagine your parents being disappointed in you every day since you were fourteen years old." He sighed heavily. "No one cared about him, Rach. I mean, he has friends, but they mostly live in other states and-" he broke off, blinking away tears.

"It's not the same," Rachel finished softly.

Kurt shook his head, still fighting back tears which turned the coffee shop into a blur of colour.

"At least he has you now," Rachel said, still in that same soft, quiet voice as if she were speaking to a timid animal she didn't want to frighten.

"Yeah," Kurt croaked. He bit down hard on his lip as self-hatred washed over him. "And I almost ended it and threw him away like I didn't care," he said despairingly.

Rachel's expression shifted and she reached across the table to place her hand over his, which he had been about to rub over his face in anguish. "Kurt, _stop it_," she said fiercely. "You made a mistake when you were frustrated and angry and had reached your limit thanks to those lying, money-grabbing, good-for-nothing members of the media." She gripped his hands tighter. "You made up, you still love each other, and you relationship is back on track. You need to put all of this behind you and stop torturing yourself over it, ok?" At Kurt's nod, she let go of his hands. "Everyone makes mistakes, Kurt," she said softly. "It's if you fix them and learn from them that matters."

Kurt forced a small smile. "And what I've learned is that I can't let a bunch of low-life reporters dictate how I live my life and that Blaine is more important to me than anything else."

Smiling, Rachel patted his hands and sat back in her chair, her expression clearing. "Exactly." She checked the time on her phone. "Glad to be of service to you, Mr. Hummel, but the session's over – we should get going."

Struggling to hold back a smile, he playfully hit his friend's arm before starting to gather his things together.

* * *

November arrived, bringing with it bitter winds and sheeting rain that fell in large, cold drops that dulled New York City of some of its beauty. The only brightness now was in the form of vibrantly coloured umbrellas in the hands of people rushing between shelters from the cold, wet weather and the ever-glowing lights of Times Square. On the days when the sun did make an appearance, often having to fight through heavy grey clouds, the damp streets glistened and water dripping from signposts and shop-front awnings sparkled like gemstones.

On these sunny days Central Park was one of Kurt's favourite places to visit. The soft light filtering through the crisp, russet leaves was a different colour everywhere he looked: golden yellows, warm oranges, soft reds. He would stroll through the park hand-in-hand with Blaine, cups of coffee warming their free hands, and bundled in coats and scarves against the biting wind.

They were able to go on these walks alone now – no longer needing a bodyguard unless they were going to an event – and the peace and tranquillity was something that was no longer just taken for granted, but treasured and enjoyed. They had never found out who had been the source to the media, but as weeks had gone by without an article being printed about them or paparazzi pestering them to the extent they used to, they had mostly shrugged the matter off and put it behind them. Sometimes, Kurt would still sit and think about it, wondering about who had slunk in the shadows of a tree that summer's day in Central Park and who had leaked private information to the media. And as he laid in bed hovering between wakefulness and sleep, his fingers absently trailing through Blaine's hair, the curls slipping and coiling around his fingers, the hunch that this source hadn't stopped, but was simply waiting, nagged persistently at him until he drifted to sleep.

This thought was nibbling away at Kurt again as he lounged on the couch in Blaine's apartment with Blaine's head in his lap as they watched TV a few days before they were leaving for Lima for Thanksgiving. The thought gnawed at him in a way that was difficult to ignore and he stewed over various possibilities of how someone could have found out some of the things that the media had printed, things that they had only ever shared with friends and Kurt's family. They wouldn't have told, so who did? Was it possible that someone had managed to spy on them?

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear the knock on the door and it wasn't until Blaine shifted off him to go answer it that he realised someone was at the door.

He pulled himself from his musings when Blaine returned with George at his side.

"Hey, Kurt!" he greeted with a bright smile as Blaine dropped back down on the couch. George sat down on an armchair, leaning forwards and resting his forearms on his knees. "I just came over to see if you guys wanted to come out tonight. Seth and the rest of the guys are coming."

Kurt glanced over at Blaine; he and Blaine had planned to start packing tonight and Blaine was going to cook dinner. Blaine met his gaze before turning to smile apologetically at George. "Sorry, but we already have plans."

George leaned further forwards in his chair, his eyes bright with curiosity. "What you guys up to?"

"I'm making dinner and then Kurt's going to help me pack," he said and Kurt smiled at the genuine happiness in his voice. To some people, including George, that wouldn't be an evening worthy of passing up an offer of a night out for, but Blaine loved nights in with the simple pleasures of having dinner together and watching a movie or, in tonight's case, packing for a trip. He loved the domesticity of it all, of having someone who loved him sit down for dinner with, shake his head fondly at the amount of hair gel he packed, and add more socks to his suitcase because it would be cold and he couldn't go around with bare ankles. Blaine hadn't had someone who cared about him like that in years, so it was special to him. Kurt loved the domesticity as well, the flashes of the future he would picture with himself and Blaine in twenty, thirty, forty years from now, still sharing the task of washing and drying the dishes, wedding rings glinting on their fingers. The same thought always came to him: 'I want to spend the rest of my days like this with you,' and Blaine would meet his eyes and Kurt knew he was thinking the same thing.

As Kurt predicted, George scoffed at this. "You guys act like you're forty, not in your early twenties. Live a little!"

Blaine just shrugged and placed his hand on Kurt's knee, rubbing the bottom of his thigh with his thumb. Kurt said nothing to this either, knowing George would never understand why they preferred not to live as he did.

George shook his head. "So you're just staying in for the rest of the day?" he asked sceptically as if he didn't believe such a thing was possible.

"Yup," Blaine answered simply.

George eyed them for a moment, his pale blue eyes darting between the two of them in slight disbelief, then he shook his head. "What are your plans for Thanksgiving? Going to see your families?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, that's what we're packing for; we're both going to Lima on Monday."

A small frown creased George's forehead. "I thought your parents lived in Westerville, Blaine?"

Blaine's thumb stilled on Kurt's thigh. "They do," he replied stiffly. Kurt pressed his leg against Blaine's and his boyfriend relaxed again. "I'm spending Thanksgiving with Kurt and his family."

George was still for a moment in what Kurt took as surprise, and then he asked in a measured voice, "Aren't you seeing your family at all, then?"

It was a reasonable question, one that most people would ask in this situation, but for some reason Kurt frowned slightly at the drummer. His musings from earlier prodded insistently at him again, like they were trying to tell him something. George's eyes were unreadable as he listened to Blaine tell him how he and Kurt had run into his mother when they were in Lima and how she had invited them over during their Thanksgiving break in Lima. George was now saying something to Blaine in sympathetic tones, but there was something about his voice that was a little off, a little too controlled…Kurt couldn't quite pin down what it was.

As Blaine began to explain how he was sick of hiding from his parents, Kurt pushed away the idea that was forming in his head with a small shake of his head. George had been Blaine's friend for years; he would never do something like that.

* * *

The taxi drove through the streets of Lima on roads slick with rain under a heavy grey sky that promised more. The air that rushed to greet Blaine when he opened the door of the cab had the tang of future snow. Tugging his scarf – a new one that Kurt had bought him not long before they had left New York – closer to his throat, he got their suitcases from the trunk while Kurt paid the driver. The cab pulled away with a splash of tires on the wet road and Kurt led the way up to the front door of his family home, dodging the large drops of water that fell from the overhang.

"Hey, kiddo! How was the flight?"

Blaine smiled as he watched Burt hug Kurt. If he had been younger this scene would have triggered a mix of emotions in him: jealousy, a great sadness, regret, and anger at both himself and his father – but mostly himself. Now that he had effectively left his family and no longer cared what they thought or felt, now that he no longer had that deep hope and wish that they would someday accept, love, and care for him again, he just felt glad that Kurt had a father like Burt.

"Good to see you again, Blaine," Burt greeted him, his voice sincere. He pulled Blaine into a hug as well and he stiffened in surprise, before relaxing and returning the embrace.

He was greeted by Carole with a kiss on the cheek when Burt stepped back and then they entered the house.

"The flight was fine," Kurt said as they dumped their cases in the hallway. "There were paparazzi at the airport in New York, but it was nothing like the numbers we used to get following us." A brief frown flitted across his face. "I don't think they were there because they knew we would be. I think they were just hanging around the airport in hopes that they would catch somebody to photograph." He shrugged. "Thanksgiving, you know."

They had a hot drink and caught up with the latest in each other's lives, before Kurt and Blaine took their bags upstairs to Kurt's bedroom, Burt having allowed them to share Kurt's bed providing they remembered what he had said last time they were here.

"We're never going to be allowed to forget that," Kurt groaned as he unzipped his suitcase and began pulling clothes out. "Finn especially won't let us."

Blaine tossed a smirk at him over his shoulder as he put clothes away in the drawers Kurt had shown him. "I don't want to forget it and I'm not at all pleased that you do."

Kurt threw a hat at his head which he snagged out of the air, still smirking as Kurt attempted to hold back a smile. "You know what I mean," he said. He walked over to Blaine and took his hat back. "What _you're _talking about is something I will never be able to forget and never want to," he whispered in Blaine's ear, his voice low and seductive. Blaine shivered and Kurt pressed a kiss to the line of his jaw. "Remember what my dad said," he told him with a laugh at his expression as he moved back to continue unpacking.

They finished unpacking in near-silence, but it was comfortable. Afterwards, they lay side-by-side on the bed, one of Blaine's legs thrown over Kurt's which emphasized the difference in length and made Blaine's leg look childishly short. Kurt was playing with Blaine's hair – something he loved doing and that Blaine loved having him do – while Blaine traced Kurt's arm with his fingers: the swell and curves of his bicep, the map of veins visible beneath the pale skin on the inside of his forearm, and the soft, delicate skin inside his elbow and on his wrist. They talked about nothing in particular and were so peaceful and content that they both jumped when Blaine's phone rang.

Huffing in annoyance, Blaine sat up to grab it from where he had tossed it on the bed so it wouldn't dig into him as he laid down. "It's Charlie," he told Kurt who was still reclined and watching him with curious eyes.

"Hey, Charlie," he greeted his manager, grinning when Kurt pulled him back down beside him.

"I know you're on holiday, so I'll keep this call short," Charlie said. He paused briefly – Kurt ran a finger down Blaine's nose with a smile, before pressing it against Blaine's lips for a moment. Blaine kissed the fingertip with a grin as Charlie spoke again.

"The media knows you're in Lima spending Thanksgiving with Kurt's family; an article was published about it online less than an hour ago along with pictures of you two at the airport."

Blaine's smile vanished and he froze. Kurt's face creased with concern and his hand on Blaine's chest stilled. "Wh-" Blaine began.

"I don't know how," Charlie admitted apologetically. "Same as it was before, I guess, information from a 'source'."

Blaine sighed – he had hoped this was over, though at least this article wasn't on anything bad.

"I just wanted you to be aware that they knew so you're prepared to maybe run into some paparazzi while you're in Lima."

Blaine nodded. "Thanks, Charlie."

"No problem, have a good holiday."

"Yeah, you too."

He ended the call and tossed the phone aside. Kurt was still watching him with eyes full of puzzlement and concern. "What is it?" he asked.

Blaine sighed again and drew Kurt against him, pressing their bodies together. "The media knows we're spending Thanksgiving here with your family. They quoted a source again."

Kurt sighed as well, rubbing his nose against Blaine's. "Do you think some of them will track us down here?"

Blaine stroked Kurt's face and wished he could say a different answer and know that there was no way their holiday would be shadowed by paparazzi. "Maybe." He kissed Kurt softly. "Maybe, but hopefully not."

"Maybe," Kurt repeated quietly, not sounding very hopeful. Blaine didn't blame him for it and knew there was no point in trying to give him false hope, so instead he pressed closer and held him tighter.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay! I managed to update today! I'm still on a post-concert high and every muscle in my body hurts, but it's all good! :)

Remember how I said the angst wasn't over? Well, it's back in the next chapter, but it's a different kind of angst from before.

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	18. Chapter 18

"You know I won't think any less of you if you don't want to do this."

Blaine stared out the car window at the house glaring oppressively at him from the end of the rain-washed driveway. The blank windows watched him coldly, just daring him to approach the house. Nothing about it looked warm or inviting the way the Hummels' one did. There was no slightly crooked fence, no warm light spilling from the windows, no fallen leaves scattered around the shadow of a tree; nothing that made it looked lived-in and homely, somewhere you would look forward to returning to at the end of a long day's work. This house was as stiff as a pair of newly bought boots: far too shiny, slightly uncomfortable, and can only be suffered for a short period of time until the blisters start to form and you have to kick them off.

He jingled the keys of Finn's car (he had kindly let them borrow it for the day) in his hand. "I know," he said, his gaze sweeping over the immaculate garden with its rolled grass, trimmed hedges, and not a fallen leaf in sight despite it being autumn.

Kurt's hand reached across the centre console to squeeze his knee. "I'll support you in whatever you decide."

Blaine let his gaze trail over the house he had grown up in once more, over the place he had never thought of as a home – it was always too sterile for it to be that. He unbuckled his seatbelt. "I want to do this," he said determinedly. "I want to show them that I'm proud and happy with my life and that I don't need them."

He opened the car door and swung out, hearing the thud of the passenger door shutting as Kurt came over to join him. He glanced sideways at his boyfriend who wrinkled his nose at the house in a way that was so adorable Blaine felt some of his nerves ebbing away.

"It looks like something out of a magazine," Kurt observed with distaste. "It doesn't look real, like it should be on _Desperate Housewives_ or something."

Blaine nodded slowly. "It has never felt like a home to me; not a proper one anyway."

He felt Kurt's gaze flick over to him, but he just started walking up to the front door, the white-painted surface of which always looked freshly done, like the door had just been fitted yesterday. The doorbell his finger pressed was a highly polished brass that also looked brand new, though Blaine knew it was the same one. Funny how his parents managed to keep everything about their house looking pristine and picture-perfect, yet they had broken their son and wrecked his life. A picture-perfect family couldn't include a gay son apparently.

Kurt took his hand as footsteps sounded on the other side of the door; high heels on wooden floors – of course his father wouldn't be the one to welcome them inside.

His mother's blank face greeted them when the door opened. She was as stiff and well put-together as her house, but with a barely hidden menace, like a deceptively handsome lion fish – get too close and the poison will enter your veins and spread through your body.

"Blaine," she greeted as if he was someone she had only met once or twice before.

"Mother," Blaine said in the same formal tone.

Her gaze flicked to Kurt and Blaine tensed slightly. "Mr. Hummel," she said with a barely perceptible incline of her head, her expression not changing. Blaine relaxed a little.

"Thank you for having us over, Mrs. Anderson," Kurt said in a voice that was far more pleasant than she deserved. "And I would rather you called me Kurt, Mr. Hummel still sounds too much like my father."

Mrs. Anderson looked Kurt over in one slow sweep of her gaze. "Very well – Kurt." Her voice held the first hints of poison. She held the door open wider and stepped aside. "Come on in."

Blaine barely repressed a shudder as he stepped into the house which, despite the heating, felt as cold as it looked from the outside. He wiped his feet carefully on the doormat before stepping gingerly onto the highly polished wooden floors. His mother took their coats and scarves with the practised movements of someone trained how to be a prefect host and hung them up before leading the way through to the living room. When the flooring under his feet turned to carpet and his gaze landed on his father sitting in an armchair reading the newspaper, Blaine couldn't help but stiffen again. His father lowered his paper with a rustle of pages to watch them enter the room with ice-blue eyes as cold and blank as the depths of an ocean. Those eyes narrowed slightly when Blaine took Kurt's hand again, linking their fingers together.

"Hello, Blaine," he said coolly, setting his folded newspaper aside. "And this must be your friend Kurt that your mother was telling me about." His hard gaze barely skimmed Kurt.

Blaine raised his chin determinedly. "Kurt is my boyfriend, not just a friend."

The temperature in the room dropped another few degrees and the harsh lines of his father's face tightened, but he didn't say anything.

Kurt just smiled as if this was all normal. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson."

There was a second of tense silence that seemed to last for hours, like a string pulled tighter and tighter, the tension increasing until it finally snapped. Mr. Anderson nodded stiffly at Kurt, and then turned to his wife. "Why don't you get some drinks?"

She left the room after noting what they all wanted and Blaine took a seat on the couch, pulling Kurt down beside him. His pulse was thrumming rapidly, but his boyfriend looked cool and calm and once again Blaine admired his strength. He sat up a little straighter and squeezed Kurt's hand, drawing on some of Kurt's strength.

"So, Kurt, you're a talk show host, aren't you?" Mr. Anderson asked, and though he managed to keep his voice neutral, his eyes betrayed his true feelings: superiority, disapproval, and a touch of mockery.

Still Kurt acted like he didn't notice any of the hostility. "I am, I've had my own show for a couple of years now. It wasn't my original career choice, but I enjoy it and I wouldn't want to do anything else now."

Mr. Anderson sniffed slightly. "And what was your original career plan?" he asked just as his wife re-entered the room carrying a tray of drinks which she set on the coffee table.

"When I was in high school I wanted to work towards being on Broadway, but I got a degree in Fashion Design from Parsons and just as I was about to start looking for a job in that area, I got the offer to have my own talk show."

Both of Blaine's parents' expressions had shifted as Kurt had spoken and Blaine knew what they were thinking: Broadway and fashion – stereotypical gay.

"Kurt's show is great," Blaine said with a smile at Kurt. "I was a guest on it in June; that's how we met." He smirked slightly as his parents stiffened at this. 'That's right,' he thought, 'the days where I never breathe a word about my sexuality are gone. Fuck your homophobic ways.'

"And how is your career going, Blaine?" his father asked, his tone sarcastic as he said 'career' – he had never approved of Blaine pursuing music, it wasn't a 'real' job.

Blaine smiled. "Fantastic, my new album did great on the charts and my shows are continuing to sell out."

He felt braver with each passing minute. There was nothing for him to be worried about, he didn't care about what his parents thought about himself or Kurt, so all he had to do was speak to them like they weren't his disgusted, disappointed parents. They were nothing to his life, so why should he care?

They continued to make small-talk for a while, his parents asking questions about his and Kurt's careers and lives in New York, mostly managing to prevent any references to his and Kurt's relationship from being mentioned. His mother's hand would tighten around her glass and his father would clench his jaw whenever either he or Kurt said something about their relationship and both of them determinedly avoided looking at Kurt and Blaine's linked hands.

When Blaine asked about Cooper, however, their entire demeanour changed and they spoke of him with smiles on their faces and a light in their eyes. Gone was their stiffness and disapproval as they talked about how well Cooper's career was going and how he was dating a lovely young girl whose parents had respectable, 'proper' jobs. Again, this was something that would have deeply bothered Blaine once, but no longer affected him with Kurt by his side, his thumb smoothing over one of his knuckles.

They moved through to the dining room after a while. The long wooden table with its mirrored surface was neatly set for four people with heavy, polished silver cutlery and gleaming crockery. The chairs around the table were as uncomfortable as Blaine remembered. His father sat at the head of the table like always, his mother to his left. Blaine sat opposite his mother in the seat normally occupied by Cooper when he was present while Kurt was on Blaine's right, in the chair furthest from Blaine's father.

The food his mother served up was nowhere near as good as Carole's or Kurt's. It had none of that warm, comforting, home-cooked meal taste about it. Despite the more formal atmosphere of the dining room, his father's grudging politeness vanished as they ate and he started shooting Kurt and Blaine disapproving looks.

"What does your father do, Kurt?" he asked as he cut up his potatoes. "I'm not familiar with the name Hummel."

"He owns a garage in Lima: 'Hummel Tires and Lube'."

Mrs. Anderson blinked. "Never heard of it."

Kurt acted like she hadn't spoken. "He's also a congressman."

Mr. Anderson looked surprised. "Really? I think I would have heard of him if he was."

Kurt ignored the implication behind his words. "Yes, he has been since my senior year of high school," he said proudly.

Mr. Anderson raised his eyebrows at his wife. "Amazing who people vote for these days, isn't it?" he said with distaste. "A mechanic," he scoffed.

Blaine scowled at his parents, feeling anger boil up inside him. How dare they talk about someone like Burt like he was a second-class citizen?

Kurt just smiled at them. "Isn't it?" he said coolly.

Mr. Anderson narrowed his eyes at them so that they were reduced to knife-like slices of blue. "Are you two living together?" he asked sharply. "Because if you are, I hope you're not telling anyone from around here. I don't want people we know knowing that our son is living with another man."

"Not yet," Blaine said and his father relaxed a little. "But we spend most nights with each other, so we'll be making it official soon."

His mother coughed a little over her food and his father tensed so suddenly it was like someone had just announced they were going to try and throw a spear through the small space between his elbow and the table.

With his jaw working, Mr. Anderson shot suddenly at Kurt, "Is your father letting you two share a room while you're staying with him?"

Kurt nodded and Mr. Anderson's face twisted. "So he's encouraging your- you two- your _disgustingness_? Your abnormality?"

Next to him, Mrs. Anderson was sitting poker-straight, her face set into lines of bitter disappointment as she looked across the table at her son.

"This is the kind of people we have in politics these days? People who approve and encourage your disgusting, unnatural ways?" Mr. Anderson spat, the tendons in his neck standing out like chords. He tossed his cutlery down on his plate with a loud clatter.

Blaine tightened the grip on his fork in an effort to stop his hands from shaking. Blood rushed through his veins, creating a pounding behind his ears so that the room seemed to be filled with a strange thrumming. Next to him, Kurt was rigid in his chair, his jaw set and his eyes hard.

Mr. Anderson shook his head at his son, his mouth twisted up into an ugly grimace as he glared at Blaine. "And to think that these last few years your mother and I have held onto a small bit of hope that you would come to your senses and be more like Cooper, but no, that was all a waste." He scowled darkly at Kurt for a moment, before directing his gaze back on Blaine. "Now that you've got involved with someone like _him_" – he spat the word, like it was too foul to stay in his mouth and shot another glare at Kurt; Blaine gripped his fork harder, his knuckles so white they looked like they were about to burst through his skin – "and are being allowed to get up to unspeakable things in a supposed congressman's house, there's no chance of you being normal." He shook his head. "It's nothing but disappointment with you, Blaine; it always has been since you were a child. Always too small and weak to stand up for yourself, joining that ridiculous singing group instead of a sports team, sitting in your room playing piano instead of outside kicking a football like your brother, going to college for music instead of doing a proper degree like law, wanting boys instead of girls. How did we end up with a son like you?"

Blaine's whole body was shaking and tears burned in the back of his throat. He swallowed thickly, trying to hold them back, not wanting to give his parents another reason to scorn at his weakness. This was the worst he had ever gotten from his parents. They had regularly expressed their disappointment and revulsion in him, but most of the time they had ignored him as if hoping that he would disappear if they pretended he wasn't there. Never had they looked at him with such distaste and displeasure, never had they actually admitted that they wished he wasn't their son. The plate of barely touched food in front of him blurred.

"How can you say such a thing?" Kurt's voice was almost unrecognisable it was filled with so much hatred and disgust. "How can you wish that your son was a completely different person, that you had never had him?"

Blaine swallowed again and gripped the edge of his chair to try and steady himself. When he felt a little bit more under control, he looked up.

Kurt was glaring at his parents, his face cold and his eyes burning with loathing. The tendons in his hands stood out like ropes as he clenched his fists. His father was staring at Kurt with his face set in harsh lines, but his eyes were wide as though he couldn't believe that Kurt was actually talking back to him and defending Blaine – he probably didn't believe it, probably passed Kurt off as too weak to stand up to someone like him. His mother was still frozen in her chair, her expression a mixture of shock and disapproval.

Kurt sat a little taller in his chair. "Blaine is a far more wonderful and respectable person than you two could ever dream of being. He's talented and made a successful career for himself all without any support or encouragement from his family." Beneath Kurt's harsh tones there was a hint of pride and Blaine managed to blink back more tears. "He's going to continue to succeed and achieve so much more than what you've ever done. Weak? Blaine has never been weak. He's the strong one for making it through all the bullying and abuse he received at school and at home, for following his dreams to make music when you were determined to crush them, to get to where he is today all off his own back." Kurt's voice was stronger now and filling the whole room. Blaine's parents continued to stare at him wordlessly.

Kurt got to his feet. "You don't deserve someone like Blaine in your lives," he finished and reached for Blaine's hand. "Come on, we're finished here."

Blaine stumbled to his feet and Kurt tugged him from the room, the route to the front door passing by him in a blur of colour. Kurt was just grabbing their coats when Blaine's father appeared, having finally unfrozen himself after Kurt's speech.

"That's right, Blaine," he sneered as he walked towards them, "huddle in the shadows of somebody else while they speak up for you like you've always done. Always too weak to stand up for yourself, instead you just snivel behind others." He paused a few feet away from the door and his gaze flickered over Kurt again. "I didn't think you were so worthless as to have this fairy defend you, though – he's less of a man than you are, and _that's_ saying something."

Throwing aside the scarf Kurt had just handed him, Blaine stormed up to his father until their toes were almost touching; they would have been face-to-face had Blaine not been so short. He glowered up at his father who hadn't backed away. "Kurt is more of a man than you'll ever be and what we have is a lot stronger than what you and mom have. I don't care what you think about it and I don't care what you think about me. You have _zero _control or influence over me and my life. I'm finished with you both."

His father glared at him, his face screwed up in anger and his hands clenched into hard fists, and for a second Blaine thought he would hit him. He narrowed his eyes. "If that's the way you want it, then fine, but don't expect us to ever accept you when you come crawling back after you lose everything when everyone gets sick of hearing your shitty music and when fairy-boy here gets bored of fucking a weakling and ditches you. You want to leave our lives for good? Then you _stay_ out of them for good." He leant closer to Blaine until his spit hit his face as he snarled through his bared teeth. "Clear?"

Blaine held his ground and tilted his chin up. "Don't worry, you'll never have to waste another second wishing I had never been born; I'm out of here for good. I should have done this years ago – I don't need you, I've never needed you and I never will."

He held his dad's glare for another moment, before spinning around and snatching up his scarf. He took Kurt's hand and yanked the door open. He didn't look back as he stepped outside and slammed the door behind him, nor when he marched down to Finn's car passed the rigidly-clipped hedges, nor when he and Kurt got in the car and drove away, turning off the street and out onto the road that would take them back to Lima.

His grip on the steering wheel eased up the longer he drove and his tensed muscles gradually relaxed. The tears and pain when he had listened to his father basically confess that he wished Blaine had never been born whilst his mother watched with hard eyes was gone. That small part of him that had still cared what his parents felt and thought about him, that still yearned for his parent's approval, was gone. After months of saying it to himself and others, it was finally completely true; he no longer cared about his parents. He was finished with them.

When they hit the main road, Kurt spoke. "What are you thinking about?" he asked softly. Not asking if he was ok – he knew he wouldn't be after what had just happened – just wanting to know what he was thinking about.

"Just that I'm glad it's over, that I no longer have to suffer through visits to my family where I just get told what a disappointment I am and that Cooper is what a son and a man should be, not what I am." He shook his head. "Why did they even want me to come over if they find me such a disappointment?"

Kurt placed his hand over Blaine's where it rested on the steering wheel. "I don't know, Blaine," he said apologetically. "They're awful people, your mother probably noticed how much more confident you were in the Lima Bean and wanted to tear you down again. Or maybe they still hoped they could change you," he finished bitterly.

Blaine drove in silence for a minute, thinking about this, and then he pushed the thoughts away. In the end, it didn't matter why they had done it, nothing about his parents mattered anymore.

"Thank you for saying everything you did," Blaine told Kurt. "What my father said really hit me hard, they'd never said anything like that to me before and a part of me was still stupidly hoping they might finally accept me. I don't think I would have had the strength to do what I did if you hadn't been there, so thank you."

Kurt squeezed his hand. "You shouldn't feel stupid for wanting your parents to love you for who you are, they should do that, it's not your fault that they don't. And you don't need to thank me, supporting and protecting you is something I'll always do because I love you. You don't need to thank me for saying something I couldn't stop myself from saying."

They were stopped at a red light now and Blaine was able to look over at his boyfriend. Kurt's face was soft and his eyes were gentle and full of love as he looked at Blaine. "I love you," Blaine told him, the words coming directly from his heart.

Kurt smiled at him, giving his hand one last squeeze before removing his own as the light turned green. "I love you, too. Never forget that, Blaine."

* * *

Rain whispered against the leaves of the trees outside, pattered softly on the roof, and rolled down the window like tears, drops racing each other towards the bottom where the glass met wood. The gentle sounds of the falling rain and the sight of it out the window made the room feel even warmer and further relaxed Kurt to the point where he felt warm and sleepy, his body boneless against the bed and his eyelids heavy. This feeling was only partly induced by the rain, and mostly caused by Blaine's hands on his back, rubbing and massaging the muscles, his hands gliding over his bare skin and releasing the tension from his taunt muscles.

Kurt had been the one to offer Blaine a back massage when they arrived back to an empty house and a note on the kitchen table explaining Burt and Carole were out shopping and Finn was visiting his girlfriend, but Blaine had insisted that he gave Kurt one first since he thought he deserved it. So now Kurt was lying on his stomach on his bed, shirtless, and with Blaine straddling his hips, his hands smoothing over his back and gently kneading the muscles.

"Feel good?" Blaine asked after a long period of silence.

Kurt hummed his approval, too sleepy to actually speak. He hadn't slept much the night before, too worried about the visit to Blaine's parent's house, and had lain awake for hours listening to the sound of Blaine's breathing, which hadn't been slow or deep enough for sleep either.

Blaine's weight shifted slightly and he felt a pair of lips brush over his shoulder blade, then his spine, the side of his ribcage, the small of his back…

He sighed softly as the lips were replaced by hands, which smoothed over his shoulder blades before trailing lightly over his lower back, making his skin tingle. He lifted his head up off his arms as Blaine's hands ran up over the side of his ribcage. "Your turn now, I think," he said, yawning as he slowly sat up once Blaine had rolled off him.

"Shirt off," he told Blaine as he began to reach for his own shirt.

Blaine grinned at him as he pulled his shirt over his head. "You know, you're awfully pushy."

Deciding to just leave his shirt off Kurt crawled across the bed until he was behind Blaine. "Watch it, Anderson or you won't be getting any massage."

Blaine started to pout but Kurt nudged him in the back until he laid down on his stomach. "Very pushy," Blaine sighed as Kurt sat gently on his hips.

Kurt trailed a finger down the length of Blaine's spine, watching the muscles twitch with little shivers of pleasure and admiring the contrast between his pale finger against the golden tan of Blaine's back. Blaine moaned softly when Kurt began massaging his muscles, starting gentle and steadily increasing the force he applied.

The rain continued to fall softly outside as Blaine slowly sank deeper into the mattress beneath him. His head was resting on his folded arms and was turned to the side so Kurt could see his face. His eyes were closed, his lashes looking impossibly long; his lips were parted ever so slightly; dark curls fell over his forehead and his face was soft. He looked young.

Kurt massaged his back in silence for a while, enjoying the feeling of Blaine's muscles and the soft, warm skin over them beneath his hands. When Blaine let out a small, content sigh, Kurt broke the silence.

"You know you're not completely without family, don't you?" he said softly. "You have Burt and Carole – they both really care about you. And Finn, as well," he added as an afterthought. "I know he likes you."

Blaine's eyes opened and he shifted slightly beneath Kurt to look at him. "Do your family really care about me? They haven't known me for long."

Kurt smoothed a hand up Blaine's back. "That doesn't matter; they really like you and they know how much we care about and love each other, so, of course they care about you."

Blaine gazed at him with soft eyes for a moment. "Come lie with me."

Kurt stopped rubbing his back and looked down at him.

"Just lie down," Blaine said.

Shifting a little so he wouldn't be directly on top of Blaine, Kurt lay down on his side beside him, his leg thrown over Blaine's. Blaine rolled onto his side so they were facing each other, pressing closer to Kurt and laying a hand on his arm. Kurt slid his other arm over Blaine's waist and reached up, winding his fingers into the curls on Blaine's neck and holding his boyfriend against him. He nuzzled against Blaine's nose as they held each other's gazes.

"My dad meant it when he said you are always welcome here," he whispered. "You're part of this family now."

Blaine smiled, a small spark of hope in his eyes: hope at finally being accepted and loved by a family, or hope for the future and the possibility of maybe joining the family in another way, or maybe it was both, Kurt wasn't sure.

He smiled as Blaine brushed his lips over his in a kiss as sweet and gentle as the rain falling outside.

* * *

**A/N: **Blaine's parents are asshats - and that's putting it kindly.

Anyways, bit of fluffiness at the end there to make up for all the angst. That was the angstiest thing I had ever written at the time (in the middle of writing my next fic right now and it has a lot more angst than this), so I hope it's ok.

I'm also currently writing a fluffy one-shot inspired by my time at Reading Festival (because I can't even go to a music festival these days without thinking of Klaine), so that should be up soon :)

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	19. Chapter 19

Tossing the last of the chopped vegetables into a dish, Kurt hummed under his breath. He slid the dish into the oven on the shelf beneath the roasting turkey as Blaine cleared away the chopping board and knife he had been using. It was nice, in the kitchen with Blaine finishing up the preparation for Thanksgiving dinner while the rest of his family sat watching TV in the living room. Lunch with Blaine's family yesterday seemed months ago, almost like it had happened in another life.

Stepping over to the sink, he washed his hands as Blaine finished wiping down the counter and tossed the cloth in the sink before leaning against the counter beside him.

"You know that tour I'm doing in Europe next month?" he asked lightly.

Turning off the water, Kurt nodded and accepted the towel Blaine handed him. Blaine was leaving for Europe at the beginning of December to play shows across a number of countries there before returning to New York in time for Christmas. Blaine had been busy with his band and manager lately preparing for the tour and had finished main rehearsals just before they had come to Lima; he had one final rehearsal before he left for Europe.

Blaine shifted slightly, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a lopsided smile. "Well, I've been talking to Taylor and your other producers about it."

Kurt set the towel down on the counter and turned his body so he was facing Blaine fully. He had a strong inkling of where this was going and felt excitement building and a smile fighting to light up his face, but he wanted to hear Blaine say the words to him, so he forced his face to remain politely curious.

Blaine's crooked smile widened a little. "You finish taping your final show for the year on the afternoon of the fifteenth, so I've arranged for you to fly out to Italy afterwards to join me for the rest of the tour," he announced, his voice rising slightly with excitement. "Only if you want to, of course," he added as an afterthought.

Kurt took a step closer to him, deliberately keeping his expression neutral, though a small smile inched onto his face when he saw Blaine search his face impatiently for a response. "I do want," he said, finally allowing his smile to widen and his eyes to light up with excitement as Blaine's face split into a huge grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He laughed with delight as Blaine picked him up and spun him around the kitchen.

"I wasn't completely sure you would want to come because I know spending Christmas with your family is important to you and I know you love Christmastime in New York as well," Blaine rambled excitedly, letting his hands rest on Kurt's hips as he set him back down on the ground. "I thought you might want to spend some of your holiday in New York before coming here, so-"

Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine's, cutting him off mid-ramble. Blaine pulled him closer and stroked his hips and waist with his thumbs.

"Of course I want to come with you," Kurt told him when they broke apart. "I've always wanted to see Paris and London and Milan." He grinned excitedly at the thought. "Oh, and I would love to visit them with you and would miss you while you were gone if I couldn't go," he added, trying to sound offhanded.

"I see how it is; you're only agreeing to come so you can travel around Europe."

Kurt let his finger trace the curve of Blaine's neck. "That's exactly how it is." He squeaked as Blaine suddenly lunged forwards and crashed their lips together with such force that Kurt stumbled backwards. He threw out a hand to steady himself as he fetched up against the counter, sending several cooking utensils clattering to the floor. He laughed softly against his boyfriend's mouth as one of Blaine's feet kicked a large metal serving spoon aside and continued to kiss Kurt eagerly. "I think we're destroying the kitchen."

Burt's voice called through from the living room at that moment. "You ok in there, boys?"

"We're fine!" Blaine shouted in the direction of the door. "Kurt just dropped something."

Kurt slapped his arm, but Blaine just laughed softly and brushed his mouth against his once more. He stepped away from Kurt. "Better stop before you actually smash something."

Kurt bent to pick up the utensils. "It was your fault," he argued. Heading to the sink to wash the utensils he'd collected from the floor, he said, "Seriously though, I don't mind not doing my usual Christmas things in New York or coming here a little later than normal. We'll still spend most of Christmas here and I'd love to spend the lead-up to Christmas in Europe."

"_We'll_ spend Christmas here?" Blaine questioned hopefully.

Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately at him. "You're spending Christmas here too, silly. I told you yesterday, you're part of this family now and there's no way I'm letting my boyfriend be alone for Christmas."

Blaine smiled widely at him again as he dried off the utensils Kurt had just washed. "Thank you." He kissed Kurt's cheek swiftly when he reached for the spatula.

Kurt dried his hands on the towel. "There's nothing to thank me for."

* * *

'Paris,' Kurt thought with a thrill, 'next month I'll be in Paris, one of the most romantic cities of the world, with Blaine.'

Though Blaine would be playing a show on a lot of the nights when Kurt would be there, he still had days off and he had assured him that they would spend those days exploring the cities. Kurt sighed happily and rolled onto his back on his bed, staring unseeingly up at his bedroom ceiling, daydreaming about touring around Europe with Blaine.

It was evening and Thanksgiving dinner had finished a few hours ago. Blaine was currently taking a shower and the sounds of water running and Blaine softly singing snatches of songs added background music to his thoughts of Paris, London, and Milan. He had always wanted to visit those cities, but his busy work schedule hadn't ever allowed for it; any time off he did get was spent with his family. He could barely wait to go. He closed his eyes and imagined sitting at a tiny restaurant in a beautiful square in Milan; strolling hand-in-hand down the snowy Champs-Élysées, café lights twinkling in the clear, cold night; cuddling into Blaine's warm body and sipping hot chocolate as they gazed out over the glittering lights of London; kissing by the brilliantly lit Eiffel Tower; winding their way through the side streets of Milan past beautiful old buildings; Blaine nuzzling his cheek softly as they watched darkness settle over London like a spell, Big Ben and the London Eye lit up and the Thames flowing silently beneath the bridge they stood on…

His daydreams blurred together in his mind until he and Blaine were in one big beautiful city: the twisting streets of Paris lined with softly lit Italian restaurants and cafes suddenly opening out into Hyde Park with its snow-filled trees.

A loud, shrill sound suddenly blared from the nightstand, wrenching Kurt from his dreaming. Glaring over at Blaine's phone, he sat up with a groan and swiped it off the cabinet, taking note of the name on the screen: George.

Wondering what he could possibly be calling about, Kurt answered the call.

"Hey, Kurt! I just called to say I hope you had a good Thanksgiving," George said once Kurt had greeted him.

Kurt blinked. "Yeah, it was great, thanks. How was yours?"

"Pretty good," he replied brightly. "It's nice to see the family again." He paused for a beat. "What did you and Blaine get up to today?"

That feeling stirred in Kurt again, the strange one of suspicion; why was George so interested in his and Blaine's lives all the time? None of Blaine's other friends had called today to wish them a happy Thanksgiving. Even Rachel, who had been Kurt's best friend for years, longer than George and Blaine had known each other, had only sent him a brief text that morning wishing them a good day. It was strange.

"Oh, you know," he said carefully, "just the usual things: making dinner, spending time with my family, eating."

George hummed softly in response, sounding almost a little distracted. "How was the visit to see Blaine's parents? I know Blaine was a little worried about it."

Blaine hadn't been that worried when he'd told George about the visit, but maybe George just knew about Blaine's history with his parents and assumed he was. The memory from months ago of Blaine standing in his kitchen in New York and telling him that he hadn't told anyone the whole story of his problems with his parents for years prodded at him insistently, but he forcibly shrugged it off despite his mounting suspicion – maybe Blaine _had_ told George; they'd been friends for a number of years now. The feeling still nagged at him, though.

"Well, it wasn't the most enjoyable experience I've ever had," he replied cautiously.

"How come?" George asked curiously. "What happened?"

The suspicious feeling prodded at Kurt again; there was definitely something off about George's tone. Kurt decided to only give him the bare minimum of details about Blaine's parents. "His parents just spent most of the time stiff and not really saying much," he hedged. Ok, so that was stretching the truth a bit, but there wasn't much he could say without revealing how bad it had been and inducing more questions.

George still pressed for more information. "Did his parents not like you?"

Kurt frowned; George had sounded almost impatient, as if he were desperate for more details, as if he relied on them for something. That was definitely not normal. "It was hard to tell really," he replied levelly. Sensing he was about to be questioned further, he resorted to lying. "Sorry, George, but I have to go, my family is shouting on me. I'll let Blaine know that you called."

"Right," George said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I suppose I'll see you when we're back in New York."

"I suppose we will," Kurt replied with feigned brightness. "Bye!"

"See you, Kurt."

Setting the phone back on the nightstand, Kurt lay back on the bed, thinking about all the articles published featuring quotes or information from a source. The first one was after Rachel's first workshop performance where a source had made false implications about his and Blaine's relationship, which had started all the rumours that they were dating. Until now, Kurt had just assumed that they were spotted by chance leaving the theatre and that the rest was just the media stirring up stories to get more people to buy their magazines and visit their websites. But maybe it was something more, though he had no idea if George had known that he and Blaine were going to that show.

Then there was the article about that day in Central Park when someone had been watching them and taking pictures from behind a tree. He absently picked at the bedspread as he thought carefully about that day; George had phoned Blaine, he remembered. He frowned, his hand stilling against the bed. Blaine had told George that he and Kurt were going to Central Park that day; he was the only person they told. There was still a chance that they were spotted by luck and it had nothing to do with George, but Kurt really doubted it. George had known he had gone to LA to visit Blaine while he had been on tour, he knew where their favourite coffee shops were, he knew that he and Blaine were coming to Lima for Thanksgiving.

He continued to mull it all over, focusing so hard on it that he didn't notice Blaine entering the room until he dropped down on the bed next to him, smelling of body wash and with his hair still damp from the shower.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" he asked, smiling. "Planning a hot new outfit to wear on your show to tease everyone with?"

Kurt turned his head to look at him. "I don't do that to tease everyone," he objected distractedly, "just you."

Blaine noticed his distraction. "What are you _really_ thinking about?" he asked, gently brushing a loose eyelash off Kurt's face with his thumb.

Kurt hesitated for a moment; George and Blaine had been friends for years now and he was the drummer in Blaine's band, so he didn't want to sound too accusatory, especially since he still wasn't completely sure it was George that was leaking details of their private lives to the media, he just had a strong feeling it was.

"George called while you were in the shower. He hoped we had a good Thanksgiving and asked how our day was." He met Blaine's eyes. "He also asked about our visit to your parent's house," he continued while Blaine watched him, looking slightly puzzled. "He's always very interested in our lives," he said in a voice loaded with meaning.

Blaine stared at him in silence, a small frown on his face and his eyes slightly unfocused as he thought about what Kurt had just said. Kurt just waited patiently for him to think it all through.

"Yeah, I guess he is," Blaine said slowly. His frown deepened and he stared unseeingly at Kurt, clearly thinking hard.

"Has he always been like this?" Kurt asked casually a minute or so later. "Even Rachel doesn't ask that many questions about us and she can be extremely nosy at times."

Blaine shook his head, his eyes still glazed. "It's weird, he never used to be like that, but you're right, lately he has been calling me up a lot and asking about my plans and what I've been up to."

"Weird," Kurt mumbled, his suspicion building.

He wondered if he should tell Blaine about his suspicions, but he decided it might be better if he got more evidence first. It wasn't that he thought Blaine would be angry with him for suggesting it or be too blinded by his friendship with George to believe him, he just wanted to be more certain before he told him as this was a big thing to accuse a friend of doing.

"Maybe it's just because we're in a steady relationship and don't go out drinking and picking up guys in bars most nights and he's fascinated with our strange lifestyle," Kurt said.

Blaine let out a small chuckle, but it sounded a little forced. "Maybe."

He lapsed into silence again after that, the frown line still between his eyebrows and Kurt could see he'd given Blaine a lot to think about.

* * *

Over the following days Kurt awaited news that an article had been written about his and Blaine's visit to Blaine's parents. Although he hadn't given much away to George, if he was right in thinking that it was him doing all the leaking to the media, then he had managed to stretch the truth enough in the past or just lie outright to allow an article to be written. One thing Kurt was pleased about was that he and Blaine had managed to evade the paparazzi the entire time they were in Lima, mostly thanks to the help of his dad and Finn. Whoever this source was, they were bound to have been frustrated by that.

Just like he expected, the day after their return to New York Blaine called him saying that his publicist had just stopped an article from being published about him having a disagreement with his family over Thanksgiving.

"How did they even find out about that?" Blaine asked him in confusion. "I didn't tell anyone about it other than your parents and it's not like my parents would ever mention it to anyone."

Kurt nodded with a grim satisfaction. Outside of his dad and Carole, only two other people had known that the meeting with Blaine's parents hadn't gone well: Rachel and George. Rachel, though gossipy at times, knew when to keep things to herself and Kurt knew she would never tell anyone about something like that. Which left…

"Blaine," Kurt said seriously, "I think I know who told the reporters."

"What? Who?" Blaine demanded.

"George," Kurt told him firmly.

Silence.

Kurt listened to his racing heartbeat and the humming of the phone connection as he waited with bated breath for Blaine's response.

"How did you figure out it was him?" Blaine asked eventually.

Kurt was relieved; he had expected Blaine to express disbelief and say there was no way his friend would do something like that, but Blaine believed him. He was probably also remembering their conversation on Thanksgiving and had maybe even started to feel a little suspicious himself.

Kurt explained to him the reasoning behind his suspicions: how George had known they were going to Central Park that day, how he had known they were going to Lima for Thanksgiving, the close interest in their lives, and how Kurt had given him a few, brief details about their visit to Blaine's parents.

"Whenever one of those articles mentioning a source was published, George had always known the details about the article's content beforehand. He had either asked us about it or actually been there like that time I visited you in LA," Kurt finished. "Of course, sometimes he just lied to them," he added.

"I can't believe he's been doing that, he's been my friend since our first year of college. Why would he do that?" Blaine sounded hurt and betrayed.

Kurt wished he were with Blaine instead of at the studios so he could offer his boyfriend some comfort. His anger at George rose, but he also felt heartbroken because George was now another person in Blaine's life who had turned against him and caused him pain. First his parents and now his friend – what did Blaine ever do to deserve this?

"I don't know why he did it, but we're going to find out," Kurt said determinedly, setting his jaw. He sat up straighter in his chair, a plan forming in his head. "Here's what we're going to do. We'll ask George and the other guys out one night and while we're there I'll let it slip that I'm meeting with Rachel for coffee the next day to discuss something to do with our relationship – I'll hint at something big, like moving in together or something – and then hopefully he'll come to the coffee shop to try and overhear. You can disguise yourself and hide somewhere to see if you can spot him lurking around and then we can catch him red-handed." He smiled as he finished talking, feeling quite proud of his plan.

"That sounds good," Blaine agreed. "But what if he doesn't take the bait?"

Kurt nibbled on the inside of his bottom lip for a moment, thinking. "Then we take more drastic measures."

"Like what?" Blaine wondered.

"I'm not exactly sure yet," Kurt admitted. "But it will be something big; Kurt Hummel knows how to make a scene if one is needed."

Blaine chuckled softly and Kurt smiled, glad that his friend's betrayal wasn't getting his boyfriend down too much. "I'm sure he does."

Glancing at his watch, Kurt stood up. "I've got to go, but you phone George and the other guys and invite them out for tomorrow night or something and I'll call Rachel later and fill her in."

"Will do."

"I'm staying over at your place tonight," Kurt told him as he headed for the door of his dressing room, "you need some cuddling."

"Ok," Blaine said happily.

Pausing with his hand on the door handle, Kurt said softly, "I'm sorry it was George who did this."

Blaine sighed. "Me too, I really thought he was a decent guy. I really don't know why he did this, I wouldn't have thought money would have driven him to betraying his friend, but clearly I don't know him as well as I thought, so maybe it was that."

Kurt ran his finger over the door handle contemplatively. "Maybe."

"I'd better go or you'll be late for your show."

Kurt glanced at his watch again and turned the handle but didn't open the door. "I love you, Blaine."

"Love you, too." Kurt could hear the smile in Blaine's voice.

"I'll be straight over after work," he added, before saying goodbye and ending the call.

* * *

**A/N: **Some of you guessed correctly - the traitor is George.

This chapter ended up being entirely in Kurt's perspective, but the next one is all in Blaine's perspective, so it balances out :)

I mentioned a music festival one-shot in the last author's note and it has now been posted. It's called 'Friday I'm In Love', so if you're interested check it out.

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews! Clearly, you all like a bit of angst.

And thanks again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	20. Chapter 20

Kurt swung their clasped hands slightly as they approached the club with its glowing neon sign over the door. "You know what you have to do, don't you?"

Blaine nodded, his eyes on the club. "Get George to stand near where you're talking to Seth and then go and make some excuse and leave him there and hope that he overhears you."

Kurt nodded, looking satisfied. "Let's just hope this works."

They reached the doors of the club that George had suggested they meet at when Blaine had called him yesterday. After giving Kurt's hand a quick squeeze, he pushed open the door and entered, tugging Kurt after him into the lively club, which was crowded with talking, laughing, and dancing people. Some modern dance track pounded through the speakers, making the shouts of other people and the clinking of ice and glasses almost inaudible.

They were intercepted almost immediately by George, who grinned widely at them, looking delighted that they were there. "I knew it was only a matter of time until you guys ditched the boring life!" he shouted over all the noise.

Blaine fought down the urge to just yell at George there and then and demand he confess what he had done. He kept himself in check, knowing there was no way George would admit to it here; he needed to follow Kurt's plan. He forced a smile at his drummer. "We thought it was time we went out with you guys after turning down your offers for months."

Kurt scanned the crowded bar. "Where are the others?"

Waving a hand behind him, George took a gulp of his drink. "They're over there somewhere."

"You two go back over there, I'll go and get drinks and join you in a minute." Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand once more before heading over to the bar and getting drinks for himself and Kurt. Winding his way through the groups of people dotted throughout the club, he headed in the direction George had indicated and easily found Kurt again. He was engaged in a conversation with Seth and George which – when Blaine was close enough to hear it – was about the upcoming tour in Europe.

"It sucks that you have to work right through most of December," Seth was saying just as Blaine joined them and handed Kurt his drink.

Kurt gave a noncommittal hum in response. "I might be able to work something out to join you guys at some point," he said nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink.

"I hope you can," Seth told him genially.

George just grunted, his eyes scanning the length of the bar.

It took them a while before they were able to put their plan into motion. The other guys kept pulling them into different conversations whenever they tried to separate George and Seth from the group. They also kept offering to buy them drinks, most of which Kurt and Blaine turned down, neither of them wanting to get drunk and forget their plan. It was over an hour later when Blaine finally found himself standing alone with George. The drummer was going on and on about something he had forgotten, he was too busy staring at the man who he had thought was one of his close friends to pay attention to what he was saying. He was wondering, yet again, what had driven George to do that to him: money? Jealousy? Something else entirely? He had never dreamed that George would do something like that and he was determined to call him out on it and discover the answer to his biggest question: why?

Tonight he was more angry than upset at what his friend had done, but he knew the pain would come soon. Kurt had been watching him closely since they had heard the news and had even asked him to join him in a Skype call to his family where they discussed their Christmas plans. He knew why Kurt had done that, even though it was a month until Christmas and they didn't need to start planning this early: to let him know that not everyone in his life would toss away his love and friendship like it was nothing; there were people who cared about him. He felt so grateful for Kurt; they may have had some problems in the past, but he knew he would always have his boyfriend's love and support.

He glanced over George's shoulder and spotted Kurt and Seth leaning against a table nearby. He caught Kurt's eye and his boyfriend nodded.

Drifting casually towards the table Kurt and Seth were standing by, Blaine kept his gaze trained on George and nodded every now and then as if he was still listening to him. He set his empty glass down on the table, smiling internally when George stepped over to join him by the table, still talking. "Sorry," Blaine apologised, interrupting George mid-speech, "I'm just going to the bathroom." He sidestepped George and worked his way through the crowds to the opposite side of the club where the bathrooms were. He stood just by the doors to them and gazed across the room at Kurt, George, and Seth, shifting around the crowds a little so he could get a clear view while also being well-obscured in case George was to look over.

Kurt was standing closer to Seth than he had been earlier and was saying something to him with a small smile on his face. George was still standing where Blaine had left him, swirling his drink around his glass and staring down at the dark liquid; it was impossible to tell if he was listening to Kurt and Seth's conversation. Seth was speaking now, waving his hands animatedly as he spoke and George was still swirling his drink.

A couple of tall guys walked across Blaine's line of vision just then and by the time he scrambled around several people until he could see again, George was gone, but Seth and Kurt were still talking. As it had been a believable amount of time to have gone to the bathroom, Blaine wound his way back over to his friends, spotting George over at the bar talking to an unfamiliar man. A few of the other guys had joined Kurt and Seth by the time Blaine reached him. Kurt stepped away from the group and bent close to Blaine to be heard over the loud music and chatter. "I told Seth, but I have no idea if George heard or not."

Blaine glanced briefly over at the bar to where George was laughing at something the brunet man he was talking to had just said. "I was watching from across the room, but I couldn't tell if he was listening to you or not." He lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "We'll just have to wait and see tomorrow."

Kurt nodded thoughtfully and then suddenly grinned at him, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. "Seeing as we're here," he said in a low voice, tugging Blaine closer by the front of his shirt, "we might as well dance." He grabbed Blaine's hands and led him over to the packed dance floor with a smirk on his face.

* * *

Huddling up inside his thick winter coat, Blaine hurried down the street towards the coffee shop where Rachel and Kurt were meeting. The beanie and scarf he was wearing were doubling as a way of concealing his identity from George as well as keeping him warm in the freezing temperatures. He paused just outside the doors of the coffee shop to tug at his scarf so that it covered more of his face, then he pushed open the door and stepped gratefully into the warm café.

The last of his shivers died down as he approached the counter, keeping his head low to make sure that George – if he was there – didn't recognise him. As he placed his order for a medium drip he spotted Kurt and Rachel out the corner of his eye just sitting down at a table nearby.

He grabbed his coffee when it was ready and thanked the barista before heading over to a table tucked away in the far corner of the café, snagging a copy of the _New York Times_ on his way. He had a good view of the rest of the café from the table and as it was tucked away in the corner, George was less likely to spot him there. He opened the paper and pretended to read, his eyes scanning the coffee shop instead of reading the printed pages in front of him.

Kurt had chosen this café as their meeting place because it was fairly small and never really busy, making it easier to spot George if he showed up. Blaine ran his gaze over the other customers again – none of them were George.

He began to fret over their plan as he sipped his coffee and pretended to be absorbed in reading the newspaper. He really hoped George didn't have a friend who was an accomplice in this and was here today instead of George. He scanned the customers again over the rim of his coffee cup. Or maybe he hadn't heard Kurt and Seth last night and wasn't coming. Or maybe he just wasn't coming. Or maybe they were wrong. Or…

His gaze suddenly landed on a tall man wearing a grey hoodie underneath a coat, standing by the short counter where the napkins, sugar, and stirrers were, right by Kurt and Rachel's table. He had his hood pulled up and it was hiding most of his face and he had his phone pressed to his ear, but he occasionally inched a little closer to Kurt's table and Blaine was sure the man's eyes kept flickering over to Kurt. Blaine frowned slightly as he carefully watched the man, suspicion prickling inside him. The man turned slightly as he shifted a little closer to Kurt's table and Blaine could suddenly see his face better: blue eyes, tanned skin, straight blond hair flopping over his forehead – George.

Getting to his feet, Blaine made his way across the coffee shop and approached his drummer from behind. George was focusing so much on what Kurt was saying that he didn't notice Blaine and he wasn't speaking into his phone, just holding it up to his ear, like Blaine suspected. He was right behind George now and he could hear Rachel's voice. Loosening off the scarf around his face, Blaine reached up and tapped George on the shoulder.

George spun around to face him, his expression a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw Blaine.

"Hey, George," Blaine greeted him in a falsely cheery voice, "fancy seeing you here!"

George glanced around the café quickly, his eyes lingering on Kurt and Rachel for a moment. "Blaine!" he said with a strained smile, "what- uh, what a nice surprise. I didn't-"

"Didn't think Blaine would be here? Didn't think someone would recognise you?" Kurt finished.

Kurt and Rachel had joined them after noticing Blaine and George's confrontation. Kurt watched coolly as George opened his mouth and then closed it again. He glanced between Kurt and Rachel, who was frowning darkly at him.

"What's going on?" he asked, trying to feign innocence.

Blaine folded his arms across his chest. "We know," he said in a voice full of meaning.

George blinked at him and flashed a brief, weak smile in an attempt to look confused, but his frantically darting eyes and the stutter in his words gave away his guilt. "Kn- Know what?"

Rachel scowled. "Don't play dumb." She grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him after her across the coffee shop to the small table in the corner Blaine had been sitting at earlier. "You know _exactly _what we're talking about," she said, pushing him down into a chair. She sat down next to him and Kurt and Blaine took the remaining chairs opposite them.

George had one last attempt at pretending to be completely clueless. "I still don't know-"

But Blaine had had enough and he cut him off angrily. "We know that you're the one who has been providing the media with information on our private lives: where we're going to be and when, and details of our relationship. You were also the one making up stories about Kurt and giving them to the media."

George had gone pale beneath his tan. "I-"

"We know it was you who took those pictures of us in Central Park so you could let the world know about our relationship," Kurt said coldly. "We know you followed us through the park and spied on us from behind a tree – I almost caught you at it."

George had regained some of his arrogance while listening to Kurt. "You've got no proof," he sneered, his face twisting up into a snarl as the colour returned to it.

Blaine just stared at him levelly, his face set. "We have nothing solid enough to go to the police or anything, that's true, but we still know it was you. You always wanted to know all of our plans and the details of our relationship. You would call me or come over to visit and we would end up telling you about upcoming plans or something that had happened recently and within the next few days an article would appear that included those details we had given you."

George's expression shifted slightly as he listened.

"You phoned me the morning of the day Kurt and I went to Central Park," Blaine continued, "and I told you we were going there. You were the _only _person who knew we were going. You told the paparazzi where to go so they could pester Kurt, you told the media we were going to Lima for Thanksgiving, you told them that I'd had a disagreement with my parents when Kurt and I visited them."

He shifted his chair closer to the table, his eyes still fixed firmly on George's narrowed blue ones. For a second he was reminded of his father, glaring at him with his similar icy-blue eyes. "And then you came here today to try and eavesdrop on Kurt and Rachel after we made sure that you overheard Kurt's plans last night."

George's scowl deepened. "All you have is your own speculation," he said triumphantly. "I'm just here to get coffee," he told them with a smarmy smirk.

"Then why were you hanging around behind our table and trying to hide your face?" Rachel shot at him. "Why were you so jumpy and shifty when Blaine approached you? Why haven't you bought any coffee yet when you've been here for over ten minutes?"

They all glared at him as George floundered for a moment, his jaw working.

Blaine met his gaze once again. "I just want to know why you did it. We've been friends for years, why did you suddenly betray me like that? Was it for money?" He fought to keep his voice from rising into a shout, aware that they were in a public place.

George shook his head, his hands clenching into hard fists on top of the table. "This had nothing to do with money," he said through gritted teeth.

"So you admit you did it then?" Kurt demanded sharply.

"Yes, I fucking did it!" George admitted loudly, finally losing his poise. He threw Kurt a dark look. "Yes, I followed you through Central Park that day! Yes, I took those pictures outside the hotel! Yes, I've been telling the papara-"

Blaine leant forwards and rested his arms on the table, his frown deepening. "Wait, what? What pictures outside the hotel?"

Kurt's eyes widened in realisation and he looked like he was only just barely restraining himself from hitting George. "_You_ took those pictures of Nick and Blaine together and sent them to the media with that bullshit story?"

Rachel gasped softly and Blaine just stared at George, frozen in his seat.

"You made up all that shit about Blaine cheating on me?" Kurt finished.

Blaine shook his head at George; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I can't believe this," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "What did I ever do to you to deserve being treated like this?" His voice rose into a shout, beyond caring about the other people in the coffee shop. "What the _fuck_ did I ever do to you? I was your _friend_! You were the drummer in my band!" He gave a short, unamused laugh when he caught sight of the look on George's face. "Yeah, that's right – _were_. You'd better start looking for another job, unless, of course, you've made enough money through selling people's private lives to the media."

George's jaw was working again, the tendons in his neck standing out in thick chords, and his hands were still clenching and unclenching into fists. "_Fine_!" he burst out suddenly. "You want to know why I did it?" He jabbed his finger in Kurt's direction. "Him!"

Kurt's face creased in confusion. "What?" He glanced at Blaine and Rachel as if appealing to them for an explanation, but they just shook their heads at him; they were just as confused as he was.

"He was the reason I did it!" George continued. "Do you know how much I hated seeing you two together?" He directed his question at Blaine with eyes narrowed in anger. "How much I _loathed _seeing you act all loved-up together? I've been your friend for _years_, yet you go on his shitty show and talk to him for an hour and suddenly you're panting after him and then just a few weeks later you're dating!"

People at the surrounding tables were staring at them, but George was beside himself and didn't seem to notice or care.

"He doesn't deserve you!" George snarled. He waved a hand at Kurt, his mouth twisted in disgust, like he'd just eaten something extremely sour and unpleasant. "Look at him! He's just some pretty boy who got famous through luck! He didn't have to work hard for it like you did! He wasn't with you through all the tough times at the beginning, but I was. I was always there for you, Blaine, yet you chose him," he spat. "Even though he doesn't trust you and believes a stupid article that says you're cheating, even though he can't handle all the paparazzi and reporters that come with your life, you chose him."

Kurt and Rachel were staring at George, slight shock evident beneath their rage.

Blaine was fuming. "_You_ caused him to feel that way! All problems in our relationship were caused by you, not Kurt! You trying to drive us apart! Did you think I'd come running to you if Kurt and I broke up?"

George's mouth twisted up into a tight smile. "Yes, I did, actually. When the talentless fucker ditched you because he couldn't handle all the shit you brought into his life or because he thought you were cheating I would have been there for you to offer you comfort – again! Maybe then you would have realised that I was better for you."

Blaine just shook his head. "Maybe in your weird, twisted mind you thought there was a chance for us to be together, but there never was. I never saw you as anything more than a friend. For me there is only Kurt."

George seethed in silence and Blaine just stared at him. Not a shred of affection lingered for his old friend and there was no way he would ever forgive George for what he had done. He had almost lost Kurt thanks to him, thanks to someone he had trusted and truly believed was a good friend. He was a bit frustrated with himself for not noticing what George had been up to sooner, but the other man had hidden the truth well. All those friendly phone calls and conversations had been an act. Anger bubbled up inside him as he looked at George; the only thing holding him back from punching his ex-drummer in the face was the fact that he hadn't succeeded in splitting him and Kurt up.

Kurt broke the tense, angry silence. "One last thing I want to know is how you managed to convince my old publicist to allow all those negative articles about me to be published."

George blinked as if he'd forgotten all about that. "Oh, that was easy to get him to do," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I was sleeping with him."

There was another short pause, during which Rachel, Kurt and Blaine stared at George in disgust and anger and George scowled darkly across the coffee shop.

"I can't believe I didn't see what kind of person you are earlier," Blaine said, getting to his feet. He shook his head as Rachel and Kurt stood up as well. "See you around, George," he said and they turned and left the coffee shop, leaving George staring after him.

The three of them walked down the street away from the coffee shop in silence. Rachel was the first to speak.

"I never guessed he did it because he was jealous of Kurt," she said. "I know I barely knew him, but I thought for sure it was money."

Neither Kurt nor Blaine said anything to this. Kurt took Blaine's hand and linked their fingers together in a silent gesture of support.

Rachel was building up steam for a long rant. "And the _nerve_ of him to call you talentless, Kurt! You don't just get a-"

"Rachel," Kurt held up a hand to stop her and she broke off, "can you please save that for another day?"

She eyed Kurt and Blaine for a moment, and then nodded. "Ok," she said, sounding a little disappointed. "I should be going anyway," she announced. "I'll see you both later." Stepping up to the curb, she flagged down a cab and was gone.

Kurt and Blaine continued to walk along in silence, both of them thinking over what had just happened, but neither wanting to discuss it just yet. That would be something to talk over later, lying in bed or on the couch together where they could hold each other as Blaine let his painful emotions spill out. Kurt would be there with his unwavering love and warm embrace to remind Blaine that not everyone in his life was like George and his parents.

"I've just realised a slight problem," Blaine said after several minutes of silence. When Kurt looked at him curiously, he continued, "I go on tour soon and I no longer have a drummer." He said it surprisingly calmly considering how big of a problem it actually was.

They came to a stop near the entrance to a subway station and stared at each other for a moment. Then Kurt smiled. "I have a solution to that."

A corner of Blaine's mouth tugged up into a smile – of course Kurt had an answer to his problem. "What?" he asked.

"Finn."

* * *

**A/N: **So, there you have it: the answers to a lot of the questions in this story. And now it's goodbye to George - yay!

Next chapter is the start of Blaine's tour in Europe with Finn as his new temporary drummer :) And that will be the second last chapter :( But no need to worry as I have a one-shot set five/six months after the end of chapter 22 outlined which will get posted whenever it is written and if I get any other ideas (or even prompts!) I may write more random one-shots of their future. And the end of this story means I start posting my new story :)

Huge thank you to everyone reading and reviewing - you are all amazing :)

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	21. Chapter 21

Finn agreed to play drums for the tour as soon as he was asked, and after checking that Burt would be able to manage the garage without him, he flew out to New York to join Blaine and the rest of the band for rehearsals. Finn had been playing drums since he was a kid and he was able to pick up the songs fairly quickly, which was a relief as they were only days away from leaving for Europe. Finn fitted in easily with the rest of the band and they all seemed to like him. They had been shocked to hear what George had done and though George had confessed to Seth about having a crush on Blaine back in college, he'd thought he was over it by now. None of the band had thought that George would have betrayed Blaine like that.

As a result of Finn joining the band for the tour at the last minute, Blaine was spending all his time in rehearsals and he barely got to see Kurt. He had resorted to sleeping at Kurt's apartment every night just so he could spend time with his boyfriend. Kurt's place was also closer to his rehearsal space than his own, which was a perk. Finn was staying with Kurt as well, which Kurt had worried about given the history between him and Rachel, but both were handling it more maturely than he had thought and they barely saw each other anyway, so the arrangement worked.

Blaine loved staying at Kurt's apartment. He would let himself into the apartment every night after a day rehearsing to find that Kurt had made dinner and he would get to spend the meal hearing about Kurt's day and telling Kurt how the rehearsal went. After dinner was cleared away, Finn would wander off to Skype his girlfriend and Kurt and Blaine would cuddle up on the couch and watch TV or a movie or sometimes Kurt would look over scripts or schedules for his show and Blaine would lie with his head in Kurt's lap, enjoying the closeness and the feel of Kurt's fingers trailing through his hair.

It was on one of these nights, two days before he was due to leave on tour, as Kurt's hand smoothed his forehead and his fingers carded through his hair, that he decided he wanted to spend every night like this – he wanted to live with Kurt. The only thing holding him back from asking right there and then was Rachel. She and Kurt had lived together since they had first moved from Lima and he wasn't sure if Kurt would want to move out and leave her on her own and when Blaine envisioned himself living with Kurt he did not see Rachel with them as well, practicing her singing in the living room. After mulling it over for a while, he decided to ask Rachel about it before he left and then go from there.

The last days flew by and before Blaine knew it the final night preceding his flight out to Munich had arrived. His bags were packed, Finn could confidently play all his parts, and everything was ready for the tour to begin. Now all that was left to do was to say goodbye to Kurt until the fifteenth when he would join him in Italy. Kurt would be coming to see him off at the airport tomorrow morning, but tonight was their last chance for a goodbye in private.

"It's only thirteen days," Kurt murmured, his fingers tracing the curves and planes of Blaine's chest and stomach.

Thirteen days wasn't that long and they had been separated for longer when Blaine had done that national tour back in August, but right then, lying in Kurt's bed with their legs tangled together and Kurt's face inches from his own, his blue eyes gazing into his very being, the part of him no one else saw, thirteen days felt like a very long time.

Blaine rubbed his nose against Kurt's. "I know it isn't that long, but-" He broke off, not able to put how much he'd miss seeing Kurt every day, how much he'd miss waking up next to him and being the first thing he saw each day, into words.

Kurt kissed him softly. "I know," he whispered. He exhaled softly, his breath caressing Blaine's cheek, and brushed his lips over the mark he'd made earlier on Blaine's neck.

"At least you're able to join me for longer than a weekend." He smiled down at Kurt as his boyfriend rested his forehead against his shoulder. "And I promise not to pass out this time."

Tilting his head to the side, Kurt met his gaze. "Good," he said, "because that was one of the most terrifying things I've ever seen."

"Sorry," Blaine said, running his hand over Kurt's shoulder blade.

Kurt shook his head, pressing his warm body closer to Blaine. "Don't apologise, just eat and sleep while you're away."

Blaine let his eyes fall shut and held Kurt against him, his hand still stroking the length of Kurt's back.

"Love you," Kurt mumbled into his collarbone, his lips brushing against the skin as he spoke.

Blaine held him tighter, breathing in the scent of shampoo and Kurt from his ruffled chestnut hair. "I love you," he replied softly, feeling himself hovering on the edge of sleep.

The next thing he was aware of was the shrill sound of his alarm beeping and Kurt grumbling something about shutting it up from where he was still curled against Blaine. Groaning, Blaine stretched out a hand to switch it off, Kurt clinging to him when he shifted to reach it.

He fell back against the bed and closed his eyes again, the rise and fall of Kurt's chest against his ribs lulling him back to sleep. He had just started to doze when Kurt groaned again.

"We have to get up."

"Don't want to," Blaine mumbled.

"You'll miss your flight," Kurt reminded him, not making a move to get up either.

Blaine turned his head to the side and buried his nose in Kurt's soft hair. "Don't care."

"Yes, you do," Kurt argued. When Blaine still didn't move, he sighed and started to sit up. He squeaked when Blaine lunged forward and tackled him back down onto the bed, straddling his hips so he couldn't get up again. "Blaine," he protested weakly as Blaine bent to kiss him. "Blaine, we- you-" he stammered as Blaine continued to kiss him, moving his lips from his mouth, along his jaw and down his neck to his collarbone. He gasped when Blaine rolled his hips into his. "We don't have time."

Removing his lips from Kurt's chest, Blaine gazed down at his boyfriend's flushed face. "Well, we'll just have to multitask then," he said with a mischievous smirk.

"Wh-"

But before Kurt could finish his question, Blaine had rolled off him and grabbed his hand, pulling him off the bed and leading him through to the shower.

* * *

Kurt sighed when the car rolled to a stop outside JFK airport. No matter how much he had willed time to slow down and for this moment to be delayed, it had arrived and he had to face it. The driver and Finn were already out of the car and getting the bags out of the trunk. He knew he should probably open his door and get out too, but he couldn't raise his hand to do it.

Next to him, Blaine shifted in his seat. "Kurt," he said softly.

Kurt turned to face him and one corner of Blaine's mouth tugged up into a lopsided smile. Blaine lifted the hand that wasn't entwined with Kurt's and cupped Kurt's face, smoothing his thumb over his cheekbone. Kurt closed his eyes and leant into his hand, inhaling softly when Blaine's lips met his. He pressed back hard against Blaine's mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his free hand fisting in the front of Blaine's shirt, his other hand gripping Blaine's tightly.

There was a tap on the window. "Guys, we've got to go," Finn's voice said.

Kurt clutched Blaine against him for a moment longer, sucking Blaine's bottom lip into his mouth. They parted and Blaine pressed one last kiss to the corner of Kurt's mouth. Then Kurt opened the car door and they stepped out to join Finn who was standing by a metal cart with their bags piled on it.

"Seth just texted me saying that everyone else is already waiting inside," Finn informed them, glancing up from his phone.

Blaine just nodded and he and Kurt followed Finn into the airport, where Kurt waited patiently by Blaine's side while they checked in. Then Finn returned the luggage cart and Kurt and Blaine made their way slowly over to the seating area near the security checks where they could see Seth, the other members of the band, and some of the tour crew members sitting. Finn overtook them and dropped down into the chair next to Seth and began chatting to him excitedly about the upcoming tour. Kurt checked the time on a nearby electronic board as he and Blaine sat down; he sighed when he saw there was only about ten minutes until Blaine would have to go through security and head for his departure gate. Blaine glanced at the time as well and met Kurt's gaze with a sad smile.

Neither of them joined in much with the conversation about the tour. Finn couldn't wait to get on the plane and go since he had never left the country before and was dying to see Europe. This, plus the fact that he was going to be playing drums for thousands of people on a sold-out tour, meant that he was living the dream. Kurt knew a part of Blaine was excited about the tour – a part of him was ecstatic for Blaine – but right now that part was currently buried beneath the feelings of sadness of having to say goodbye for thirteen days. So, as everyone else around them chatted excitedly, Kurt rested his head on Blaine's shoulder and listened to his step-brother's laughter while soaking in the feeling of Blaine's head against his and his thumb sweeping rhythmically over his hand.

Before he knew it one of the crew members was getting to his feet and announcing that they needed to go through to the gate. All the others jumped to their feet and made a beeline for the queues at the security checks. Kurt and Blaine stood slowly and just as Kurt was about to turn reluctantly to face Blaine, Finn appeared at his side and pulled him into a quick hug.

"See you when you come out to join us," he said when he let Kurt go. He grinned at him. "And don't worry; I'll take care of Blaine for you."

Kurt managed a small laugh at that. "Thanks, Finn, have a great time."

"I will," he assured, before bounding off to join the other guys.

Kurt turned to face Blaine.

"I'll call or Skype you every day," Blaine promised. "And I'll text you whenever I can, international rates be damned."

Kurt nodded and swallowed thickly, willing himself not to cry. They weren't going to be separated for long and they were still going to talk every day; he shouldn't be crying over that.

Blaine dropped his hand and wrapped his arms around him, burying his nose into the curve below Kurt's ear. "I'll miss you," he murmured.

Kurt closed his eyes and held him tighter, tangling the fingers of his left hand into the curls at Blaine's neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in Blaine's familiar scent. "I'll miss you."

Blaine hummed softly and they held each other for a long moment, oblivious to the stares from passing passengers heading for the departure gates.

They were pressed so close together that Kurt felt the vibration from Blaine's phone when he received a text. "That will be them telling me to hurry up," Blaine sighed in Kurt's ear.

Kurt gripped Blaine a little closer to him before reluctantly starting to let go. Blaine's lips suddenly landed on his in a hard kiss and Kurt kissed back fiercely. Their mouths moved frantically against each other, both trying to memorize the taste and feel of each other's mouths. Blaine's phone buzzed again and after another few seconds they drew apart, breathing heavily.

"I love you," Blaine whispered.

Kurt smoothed his hands over Blaine's shoulders and down his arms, before linking their fingers together. "I love you, too." He squeezed Blaine's hands gently and then let them go. "I'll see you in Italy."

Smiling, Blaine picked up his carry-on bag. "I'll call you when we land." He brushed a thumb lightly over Kurt's cheek. "Bye," he whispered, turning to leave.

Gripping his elbows, Kurt forced a small smile. "Bye." He stood there and watched Blaine go through security and out of sight, and then he let his shoulders slump and walked towards the exit.

* * *

The days actually passed by fairly quickly; Kurt kept himself busy. When he wasn't at the studios filming a show he was out Christmas shopping with Rachel or on the phone or Skype with Blaine. Nights, however, were a different story.

With Rachel out doing a show most nights he was at home alone and unless it was one of Blaine's days off, he couldn't speak to him due to the time difference and Blaine's shows finishing late – he had told Blaine firmly that he wasn't to call him after a show as he didn't want him missing out on sleep. This left Kurt with very little to do during the evenings. He rarely felt like watching TV or a movie or reading a book, and there were only so many times he could read over his scripts for his shows. He packed his suitcase for going to Europe one night, but once that was done he was at a loss at what to do again. He cleaned the apartment, re-organized his closet, and baked cupcakes and cookies, but the evenings still dragged on. He tried going to bed early a few times, but that was worse than sitting in the living room and aimlessly flicking through a magazine; he just laid awake and wished Blaine was lying beside him, no matter how hard he tried to push the thought from his head. He found himself sleeping curled around the pillow Blaine had used when he slept over, wearing one of Blaine's t-shirts that he kept in a drawer in Kurt's room until Blaine's scent eventually faded from them and was replaced with his own.

He chastised himself over his behaviour; he was acting like he wasn't going to see Blaine again for years, not a little over a week. He told himself to get a grip and quit moping around the apartment wishing Blaine was there. So he went and saw Rachel's show again, went ice skating with some of his show's crew members, and decorated the apartment for Christmas. And then finally it was the fifteenth and he was finishing the taping of his last show of the year.

He all but sprinted off the stage when he was done and changed his outfit as fast as he could. He had brought his bags to the studios with him and had already said goodbye to Rachel so that he could head straight to the airport from the studios. Blaine had booked him on the earliest flight he could manage and he would have to leave the studios in record time to catch it.

After a flurry of rushed goodbyes to his producers and crew, he flew out the doors and into the waiting car.

Throughout the ride to the airport he drummed his fingers on the seat and checked the time on his phone every few minutes. Excitement bubbled up inside him the closer he got to the airport – tonight he would be in Italy with Blaine! He squirmed impatiently in his seat and was glad when Rachel called him and distracted him for the rest of the journey.

The flight was worse; it felt like he was never going to get there. He stared out the window for a while, watching the clouds and trying to imagine what Italy would be like, what it was _really_ like, not how it was shown on TV and in movies. He watched a movie, but even the two hours it lasted didn't make much of a dent in the flight time. He was even glad for the arrival of airplane food as picking and wrinkling his nose at it passed some more time.

It was night when the plane finally descended into Milan, but that didn't stop Kurt from staring eagerly out the window at the lights sliding by underneath him. When they landed and had taxied to the gate, Kurt was one of the first on his feet to collect his carry-on bag. He bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet as he waited for the doors to open and sent Blaine a text saying that he'd landed.

He walked briskly off the plane and through the airport, overtaking all of his fellow passengers, and reached immigration first. There was another agonizing wait to collect his bags and then he was following the signs to the exit, his pace quickening with his need to see Blaine. He walked through another doorway into a busy arrivals hall and broke into a run when he spotted a familiar face.

"Blaine!" he cried and his boyfriend looked over just before Kurt dropped his bags and threw his arms around him. "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine," he chanted in a low whisper as he breathed in Blaine's familiar, comforting scent, and felt his racing heartbeat and breath on his neck.

Blaine pulled him closer and rubbed his back. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispered. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." He pulled back a little and kissed Blaine softly, stepping back after only a moment, aware that they were in the middle of a busy airport. It was only when he finally looked away from Blaine's face that he noticed Finn standing just behind Blaine holding Kurt's abandoned bags. "Oh, hey, Finn."

"Glad you're here, Kurt," he said with a smile. "Blaine has been moaning about how much he misses you since we left New York."

Blaine just rolled his eyes and took Kurt's hand, leading him towards the exit with Finn and a bodyguard Kurt hadn't noticed earlier following along behind them. A car was waiting for them and in no time at all Kurt's bags were loaded in the trunk and they were heading off to the hotel.

Kurt let his head fall onto Blaine's shoulder and he closed his eyes with a content sigh.

"Tired?" Blaine asked softly.

Kurt just nodded, glad that it was dark outside so that he didn't feel the need to look out the window to get his first sight of Italy. A busy day, the flight, and lack of sleep the night before due to excitement had left him exhausted.

Blaine's hand came up and he gently carded his fingers through Kurt's hair. "It's not far to the hotel," he assured Kurt, "then you can sleep."

Kurt just hummed in response, too tired and comfortable with his head nestled in the familiar curve of Blaine's neck to say anything.

The arrival at the hotel and Blaine leading him out the car and up to their room was all a blur to Kurt. He had the vague impression of cold night air, Blaine's warm arm around his waist, a dazzlingly bright lobby, a long corridor, and then he was seated on a large, soft bed and Blaine was rummaging through his suitcase.

"Kurt, where are your pyjamas? I can't find them."

Kurt blinked, suddenly feeling a little more alert. "Oh." He stood up and joined Blaine by his open suitcase. "I haven't been sleeping in them lately."

Blaine glanced up at him in confusion. "Then what-?"

Kurt pulled out the t-shirt of Blaine's that he'd been wearing to bed since Blaine left New York. He flushed under his boyfriend's wide-eyed stare.

"Oh," Blaine said. He fumbled for words for a moment, then, "How long-?"

Kurt smoothed the soft fabric of the t-shirt between his thumb and forefinger. "Since the first night after you left." He kept his gaze trained on the white cotton in his hands. "I missed you and I- it smelled like you." He finally met Blaine's soft gaze. "It doesn't anymore though."

Blaine smiled gently at him. "Well, you don't need a shirt that smells like me tonight." He pressed a kiss to Kurt's forehead.

Kurt smiled and then wrinkled his nose at his creased outfit. "I'm going to shower."

"Ok." Blaine's hand brushed his lower back as he headed for the bathroom carrying Blaine's shirt and his toiletries bag.

When he emerged from the bathroom a short while later, the stale airplane smell scrubbed from his hair and skin and wearing boxer shorts and Blaine's t-shirt, he found Blaine sitting on the bed in his usual sleep ensemble of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. His expression shifted when he saw Kurt, his gaze slowly sweeping the length of Kurt's body in a way that made Kurt shiver.

"I like it," he announced.

Kurt just walked over and joined him on the bed. "If I'm changing my sleepwear then I think you should too." He eyed Blaine's outfit. "Shirt off," he told him.

"I'm sure there should have been a 'please' in there," Blaine responded.

"Shirt off, _please_."

Blaine huffed and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor.

Kurt shuffled closer to him and lightly kissed his lips. "Better," he said. He laid back on the bed, pulling Blaine down with him, before tugging the blankets over both of them. He wriggled closer to Blaine, sighing happily when his boyfriend wrapped an arm around him and nuzzled against his neck.

"I missed this," Blaine murmured.

Kurt closed his eyes. "Me too." He thought he heard Blaine whisper an 'I love you,' but he fell asleep before he could be sure.

* * *

It took Kurt a few seconds to remember where he was when he woke the next morning and then it hit him in a rush: he was in Italy with Blaine. Opening his eyes he was met with the sight of Blaine's face: soft and young-looking in sleep. He smiled and stretched, careful to avoid bumping Blaine and waking him. He looked around the hotel room, searching for a clock and found one on the nightstand by Blaine's side of the bed – it was almost eleven. He reclined back against the pillows again; he hadn't slept this long in ages and it felt good.

He laid there for a while, enjoying the feeling of waking up next to Blaine again, but as time passed he began shooting more and more eager glances over at the large window and the view of Italy that was hidden behind the curtains. Eventually he could stand it no longer and he slipped out of bed and padded over to the curtains, pulling them open slightly so a shaft of winter sunlight spilled into the room. He blinked.

The curtains weren't hiding a window, but a glass door which opened out onto a small, tiled balcony with a round table and a couple of chairs. He scrabbled for the key which was in the lock, turned it, and opened the door, stepping out onto the cool tiles. The air was cold and crisp and he knew he should go back inside and put on some warmer clothes, but he barely noticed the cold as he stepped over to the balcony railing, his wide eyes taking in their first view of Italy.

Several beautiful old buildings with gothic facades and multiple carved stone arches surrounded their hotel, spires of distant cathedrals pierced the sky, and he could see part of a busy square when he leaned over the railings a little.

He heard footsteps behind him and then Blaine was leaning on the railing beside him. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Kurt nodded, not taking his eyes off the street below him where people zigzagged across the road. "It's like I've stepped back in time," he commented.

"A lot of Europe is like that," Blaine agreed. "You still get the big, modern cities and everything, but some of the towns and villages and parts of the cities are like this."

They stood in silence for several minutes, both of them watching late-morning Italy. Kurt could barely believe that he had only arrived here last night; it felt like months ago that he had been in New York.

After a while, Blaine straightened up. "I'll order room service for breakfast and we can eat it out here." He ran a hand down Kurt's arm. "You should go get dressed before it arrives, you're shivering."

"Oh." Kurt hadn't even noticed that he was cold, but now that Blaine mentioned it he noticed the goosebumps on his arms and felt the cold air on his skin. He stepped away from the railing, following Blaine back inside their room, which felt almost too warm after being out in the winter air.

The food had arrived by the time they had both washed and dressed in jeans and sweaters. They carried it out onto the balcony and sat down at the small table. Kurt could barely keep his eyes off the view of Milan, so neither he nor Blaine attempted to make conversation as they ate, instead they sat in a companionable silence. When they had finished eating and were both sipping coffee, Blaine broke the silence.

"Is there anything in particular in Milan that you wanted to see?" he asked. "I have a show tonight, so I don't have all that much time today, but there's still most of tomorrow as well."

Kurt turned to look at him thoughtfully. "The Duomo, La Scala Opera House, and I wouldn't mind going shopping…" He shrugged. "But honestly, I'm happy just spending time with you, if we get to see a few tourist attractions as well, then great."

Blaine leant across the table to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll make sure you see at least one crumbling old building before we leave here. We'll try and squeeze in some touristy stuff in Dublin, London, and Paris as well."

"Paris!" Kurt echoed, his face lighting up with excitement. "I _have_ to go shopping there."

Blaine chuckled. "We'll be there for three days, so you'll have plenty time to do that." He swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "And of course I'll take you up the Eiffel Tower and we have to see it at night as well." He grinned at Kurt. "I've heard that can be very romantic."

Kurt smiled around his coffee cup. "I thought you said you weren't very good at romance?"

"Still got to try my best at it," Blaine replied brightly. He set his cup down. "Do you remember back in July on the night we saw Rachel's musical when I promised I'd sing a duet with you?"

Kurt blinked and lowered his cup. "I'd forgotten you still owe me a duet. Is this you finally paying up?"

"It is, sorry it took so long, but I had an idea and it didn't really work until now."

"What is it?" Kurt asked.

Blaine suddenly looked a little nervous. "Maybe it was a stupid idea. I know you loved to sing on stage, but you haven't done it in years and this would be in front of a big audience and there isn't all that much time to-"

"Blaine," Kurt cut off his boyfriend's rambling, reaching across the table to take his hand, "what was your idea?"

Biting his lip, Blaine lowered his gaze to their entwined hands. "I thought we could sing 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' at a few of my shows, maybe the Paris and London ones." He ran his thumb over one of Kurt's knuckles. "That song popped into my head when you mentioned a duet that night and I wanted to sing it with you during a show, but it only really works during the winter." He shook his head. "It was a stupid idea, don't worry about it."

"I'd love to."

Blaine's head snapped up and he gazed at Kurt with wide eyes.

"I'd need a few practice runs first," Kurt told him, "but I'd love to sing with you at some of your shows."

"_Really?_" Blaine breathed.

Kurt nodded. "Really," he confirmed, smiling at the wide grin that appeared on Blaine's face.

Blaine's chair scraped back and he hurried round the table and bent to kiss Kurt fiercely. "Thank you," he gasped when they parted.

"You're welcome," Kurt said, cupping Blaine's face and stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. He pressed another kiss to Blaine's lips.

"We should go if we want to get some sightseeing done before we have to go to the venue for soundcheck," Blaine said with a glance at his watch. "We can practice our duet a bit while we're there."

"Ok," Kurt replied, jumping to his feet, eager to spend a few hours exploring Italy with his boyfriend. "Come on," he said, grabbing Blaine's hand. "Let's go see some crumbling old buildings."

* * *

**A/N: **Remember the duet that was mentioned way back in chapter 6? Here it is finally making an appearance! I actually had a different plan for it originally - I was going to have Kurt and Blaine record a duet (probably BICO) with Kurt appearing as uncredited - that didn't end up working with the story and this was my back-up plan for it.

Only one more chapter left :( It's not an epilogue, there isn't going to be an epilogue for this story as I'm happy with the ending the way it is, but, like I said in the last author's note, there will be at least one future one-shot for this story.

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and to all of the people who have recently added this story to their favourites or started following it.

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	22. Chapter 22

A light layer of snow covered London like icing sugar on a cake when Kurt and Blaine left their hotel to explore the city. The sun had recently emerged from behind a cloud and made the bare trees in Hyde Park look enchanted instead of barren. Kurt was determined to try and see as much of the city as possible in the two days that they were there, but as Blaine had shows on both of those nights, he knew they wouldn't be able to see everything he wanted to.

Kurt had decided to forgo shopping here due to their limited time – he had done a bit in Milan and would shop some more in Paris, so he figured that was enough. However, there was one store he wanted to visit: Harrods.

Blaine didn't see what the fuss was about. "I know you love shopping, Kurt, but do you know how expensive this place is?"

Kurt sighed a little impatiently as he tugged Blaine towards the multi-floor store with its bottle green awnings over the windows. "I know that, but it's Harrods, Blaine – Harrods!"

His boyfriend still looked slightly baffled but allowed himself to be pulled inside all the same. He followed Kurt around as he made his way slowly through the shop, occasionally pausing to examine something. In the end he bought something for both Carole and Rachel and then they left the store when Blaine pointed out how long they had been in there.

Next they visited another place on Kurt's must-see list: Buckingham Palace. Clusters of other tourists were gathered around outside the gates taking pictures and eyeing the uniformed guards that stood sentinel at points inside the cast iron fence. The union jack billowed in the light breeze from its flagpole on the palace roof.

"That means the Queen isn't in the palace," Kurt said knowledgeably, his eyes on the flag. He cocked his head to the side as he observed the palace musingly. "I wonder if Prince William and Kate Middleton are staying here for Christmas?"

"_I _wonder if it's true what they say about those guards and they really don't ever crack a smile," Blaine said as he watched a couple of people take pictures of a nearby guard.

Kurt shot him a look. "You aren't going to be one of those cringe-worthy tourists who try and get them to laugh and give me so much second-hand embarrassment that I'll have to leave you here?"

"Of course not," Blaine replied. "I could never get them to laugh, anyway." He looked away from the guard who was still standing silently and ramrod straight despite the goggling tourists and faced Kurt. "You could maybe make them laugh with one of your witty comments."

Kurt smiled at him. "You could always serenade one of them; I bet they haven't seen many people doing that before."

Blaine laughed despite his attempts to keep a straight face as he pictured himself singing to one of the guards. "I am not serenading them."

"Too bad," Kurt told him, linking their hands together as they set off around the palace, "I'm sure I could have thought of an inappropriate song for you to sing."

They headed towards the nearest tube station, still glancing up at the palace every now and then. "It's a pity we don't have time to see anything on the West End," Kurt said as they descended the stairs onto the platform.

Blaine glanced sideways at him. "Kurt, we have Broadway at home."

Kurt shrugged. "I know," he replied, unfazed, "but it's different here."

They made their way around London, visiting as much of the sights as they could. The city was busy with Christmas shoppers and tourists and Blaine was stopped a few times by fans hoping for a picture or an autograph. Kurt's show wasn't as popular in the UK as it was back home so he was able to walk the streets unrecognised, though a few of the fans who approached Blaine glanced at him knowingly.

They saw Trafalgar Square, Big Ben, Tower Bridge, Westminster Abbey, and managed to squeeze in a quick visit to Piccadilly Circus – "It's sort of like Times Square's little brother," Kurt observed – before Blaine insisted that they visited one last place before going back to their hotel.

"The London Eye?" Kurt asked as they neared the large wheel that stood on the banks of the Thames. "Is that where we're going?"

Blaine nodded, tipping his head back to look at the top of the wheel. "I said we would get to see as much of London as possible today, so," he waved a hand at the giant wheel, "we're doing just that. We'll be able to see nearly the whole city from up there."

It turned out Blaine had pre-booked tickets for them, which explained why he had rushed them through a few of the last places they had visited, and they got a capsule to themselves which allowed them to stand with their arms around each other as they gazed out over the city without stares from other people. As they got closer to the top, they moved away from each other to take in the view better. They were silent for most of the time except for when they occasionally pointed something out to the other, preferring to quietly observe the city spread out below them: Big Ben, the houses of parliament, Battersea, Buckingham Palace…

Blaine broke the silence when he noticed Kurt leaning against the railing and gazing out over the city wearing a wistful expression.

"We'll come back to Europe by ourselves," he promised, moving to stand beside his boyfriend, "when we have no restrictions on what we can do because of my tour."

Kurt hummed in response and shuffled closer to him, resting his head on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine wrapped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Kurt smiled and tilted his head back and Blaine bent down towards him again, their lips meeting in a soft, sweet kiss.

Kurt returned his attention to the view of London. "I'd like that," he said. "Can we go to some other places in Europe as well?"

Blaine rubbed his side. "We can go wherever you want."

They were silent for another long moment until they were moving down towards the bottom of their revolution.

"Are you ready for tonight?" Blaine asked. It would be the first time they performed their duet of 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' in front of an audience.

Kurt nodded slowly. "I think so."

"We'll run through it again one last time during sound check," Blaine promised. He kissed Kurt's head. "You'll be amazing. We'll kill it."

* * *

The cheers and shouts of the crowd could be heard distantly over the crashes and booms of instruments from their dressing room at the O2 arena. Every now and then the sounds of the crowd would increase in volume as the opening act currently onstage finished a song. Kurt was sitting on a couch in the corner of the room and listening to these sounds. He would be onstage in front of them soon singing a duet with Blaine.

"Nervous?" Blaine asked as he sat down next to him.

Kurt shook his head. "I've stood up in front of an audience enough times that I don't get stage fright anymore." The sounds of the guitars and drums stopped and the crowd cheered louder again as another song ended. "Though none of those audiences were quite as large as this," he added.

Blaine squeezed his shoulder. "You'll be great," he said assuredly.

There was a knock at the door and then Finn entered the room followed by the rest of the band. "That was their last song," he said, waving his hand behind him to indicate the opening act currently on the stage, "so we'll be on soon." He tapped one of his drumsticks against his thigh in an unconscious rhythm.

Kurt still found it a bit strange seeing Finn with the drumsticks instead of George standing a little off to the side and attempting to twirl them. He knew it was weirder for Blaine as George had been his drummer since he had first started out. Kurt had seen him automatically give Finn a wide berth the other night at the show in Dublin as if he were still avoiding being hit by a drumstick being inexpertly twirled. Finn was a success as a drummer for the tour, but it would take more than a few weeks for Blaine to forget the ingrained habits from years of working with George.

"Ready for your duet, Kurt?" Seth asked.

Kurt nodded. "I know the lyrics, I know where I'm going on stage, I know the song, and it went well in practice, so I'm feeling confident about it."

Seth smiled at him just as there was another knock at the door. "Good."

An assistant stuck their head into the room and told them that they were due out on stage in a few minutes. The band made a beeline for the door whilst Kurt and Blaine hung back as usual.

"Everyone's asking me if I'm ready for the duet, but what about you? Are you ready for it?" Kurt asked Blaine as they slowly followed the band along the corridors to the stage.

Blaine grinned at him. "Of course I am; when have I ever messed up a performance?"

"There's a first for everything," Kurt pointed out.

Blaine stared at him with mock indignation as they caught up with the band who were preparing themselves to go out on stage. "Are you saying that you don't trust me to sing this duet well?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt adjusted the collar of Blaine's shirt. "That's not what I'm saying." He stepped back as Blaine was passed his guitar. "Now shut up and go out there and do a good show."

The band began to file out onto the stage, but Blaine held back and pouted at Kurt. "Don't I get a pre-show kiss?"

Kurt leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss. "Now get out on that stage."

Blaine grinned and began walking out onto the darkened stage. "Yes, sir!" he called out over his shoulder, raising his hand in a salute.

Smiling at his boyfriend's antics, Kurt found a good position to watch the show from, his smile widening when Blaine launched into his first song. He would never get tired of watching Blaine perform, of seeing him throw himself into the song with the sweat on his face and neck shining under the stage lights, his curls breaking free of the gel and clinging to his skin; of seeing his face light up in an eye-crinkling smile when the crowd sang his lyrics back to him; of seeing him jump around on stage during the instrumental solos; of seeing him smile and wink at him every now and then. There was a different energy to Blaine when he was performing, a bright spark that burned with a different kind of flame to when he wasn't performing to an audience – a less intense flame. It was the same thing Kurt had noticed when he had watched Blaine play to the empty audience seats in the studios before his appearance on Kurt's show.

The concert went on and Kurt almost forgot that he had to go out on the stage and sing as he watched Blaine finish playing 'Human'. As he strummed the final chords, Kurt's pulse leapt; it was time for their duet. A microphone was handed to him as the cheers and shouts of the crowd started to die down and he accepted it with a nod of thanks.

Blaine leaned into his microphone and grinned over at Kurt. "Seeing as it's winter and there's a bit of snow outside and the holidays are just around the corner, I thought I'd bring a bit of that into my show." He lifted his guitar off his shoulder as the crowd screamed and shouted their response to his words. He took a few steps towards the opposite side of the stage from Kurt and handed the guitar to a tech guy who sprinted on stage to collect it. He moved back across to his microphone and removed it from the stand. "The song I'll be covering has been performed by many people over the years and as it is a duet, I'll be singing it with the help of someone tonight."

The crowd went wild and Kurt swallowed against the prickle of nerves he was feeling. From where he stood he could see countless cameras and cell phones held in the air and he knew they were only a small fraction of what was present in the whole audience. All of them would be photographing and filming him and Blaine as they sang and if he screwed up in any way it would end up all over the internet. He had told Blaine earlier that he didn't get stage fright anymore, but he had forgotten the pressure of being in front of a live audience with no editing if he messed up. He hadn't experienced this since high school show choir competitions and those were nothing compared to this. The venue was packed with fans of Blaine, who would post any mistakes he made on the internet before the night was over. His stomach started churning.

The plan was to not introduce Kurt before the song, but to just launch straight into it once Blaine finished introducing the song to the crowd. Kurt forced his mind off his mounting nerves to listen to what Blaine was saying; he didn't want to miss his cue and mess up before he had even walked out onto the stage.

Blaine was smiling at the audience. "The song's called 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'."

The venue erupted with cheers and screams again. Whether they recognised the song or not, Kurt didn't know, but each and every member of the audience, from the ones standing at the metal barriers directly in front of the stage to the ones sitting in the tired seats, was roaring their approval.

The band started to play and Kurt took a few shaky steps forward as Blaine got into position on stage, smiling softly as him. He heard his cue in the music and walked out onto the stage singing the opening line of the song, his gaze locking on Blaine's. They darted flirtatiously around the stage as they sang, never once breaking eye contact. The cheering crowd seemed distant to Kurt, as if they stood watching them from miles away and all traces of the nerves he had experienced earlier had long since evaporated. He forgot about the crowd, about all the cameras and cell phones trained on him, about Finn and the rest of the band, about all the watching crew members and security personnel; all he could see and hear was Blaine, all that mattered was Blaine.

They sang the final line of the song standing merely inches apart and with huge smiles on their faces. Blaine leaned forward and brushed a quick kiss across Kurt's cheek and it was as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume control, the cheers and screams from the crowd were almost deafening.

The ear-splitting roar of noise had Kurt looking out over the crowd for the first time since he'd stepped on stage and for a moment he was stunned by the sheer number of people cheering and waving phones and cameras in the air.

Blaine laid a hand on his shoulder. "Give it up for my duet partner, Kurt!"

The crowd roared and applauded again and more cameras flashed in their direction, creating bright starbursts of light in the dense sea of bodies. Kurt smiled at them and did a little bow before meeting Blaine's eyes. Blaine squeezed his shoulder and Kurt turned and left the stage, returning to his spot just off it to watch the rest of the show, exhilaration thrumming through him like electricity.

* * *

"Are you sure you know the way?" Kurt asked as they turned down another street almost identical to the last one.

"Of course I do," Blaine replied with mock indignation, "it's not exactly hard to find the Eiffel Tower."

"If you say so."

Blaine swung their clasped hands as they made their way along the narrow street lined with boutique shops, small cafes, bustling restaurants, and stylish apartment buildings. Despite the freezing temperatures, Parisians and tourists alike where out on the streets, bundled up in coats and scarves and wearing boots to protect their feet from the dusting of snow on the sidewalks. The night sky wasn't completely clear; the velvety blanket with its scattering of diamond-dust stars was broken up by pale grey clouds that promised flurries of snowflakes.

Blaine tipped his head back and blew the air out of his lungs in a stream of cloud like a dragon exhaling smoke. His breath hung in the air for a moment, spreading out steadily, before dissipating into the cold air. He grinned and blew out another breath, harder this time, and caught sight of Kurt shaking his head at him out the corner of his eye. "What?" he asked, turning his head to look at his boyfriend.

Kurt shook his head at him again, a fond smile on his face. "How old are you again?"

"You're never too old to enjoy the cold weather," Blaine told him seriously.

Kurt chuckled. "Is that what you were doing?"

"Quiet you."

"I suppose you also catch snowflakes on your tongue and have snowball fights?"

Blaine smiled at him. "Of course I do."

They rounded the corner onto another street and suddenly they could see the path leading up to the Eiffel Tower.

"Told you I knew where I was going," Blaine said triumphantly.

They walked along the path through the greenspace – Champ de Mars – that the tower was situated in. They had been up the tower yesterday morning to see the spectacular view of Paris sprawled out before them, broken up by the river Seine twisting through the city like a glittering serpent. They had pointed out the different landmarks to each other – The Arc de Triomphe, Louvre, and Notre Dame Cathedral – and compared the view to the one seen from the Empire State building. Tonight they just wanted to see the tower itself, lit up against the cloudy ink of the night sky.

There were a few other couples strolling hand-in-hand along the paths in the gardens; Paris was a city of romance after all. Blaine didn't know whether it was the beautiful old buildings with their curving architecture, the cosy restaurants waited by Parisians with their thick accents, the atmosphere of the city with its whispering river and glittering lights, or just being here with the man he loved, but Paris did feel romantic to him.

They stopped by an ornamental pond with lace-like films of ice at its edges and was surrounded by a low stone wall covered by a layer of powdery snow. The Eiffel Tower was a glittering spear illuminated by hundreds of bright white lights so it was diamond-bright in the darkness. They stood hand-in-hand and drank in the sight before them: the twinkling tower, the snowy gardens, the snow-heavy trees, and the flickering stars.

Snow began to fall, flakes drifting and twirling lazily toward the ground, becoming heavier until it was falling in a steady, gentle cascade. The cold, soft flakes kissed Blaine's face and settled on his hair and shoulders.

Grinning at Kurt, Blaine tipped his head back and opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue and feeling the cool snowflakes land on it, melting when they touched the warm flesh. He could feel Kurt's amused gaze on him and he spun back towards his boyfriend and took his face in his hands, pressing their cold lips together.

"Can you taste the snow?" Blaine asked him when he pulled back.

Kurt laughed and shook his head. "Blaine, it's just water." He laughed again. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm not!" Blaine protested, grinning. "Try catching it on your tongue." He tipped his head back again, watching Kurt out the corner of his eye as his boyfriend slowly did the same.

Lowering his face from the dark sky, Blaine stopped catching snowflakes and just watched Kurt. He smiled as he stuck his tongue out further in an effort to catch more of the falling snow. After a moment Kurt stopped, his face lit up in delight.

"You win," Kurt said, "it _is_ fun."

Stepping towards him, Blaine raised a hand and gently brushed away a large snowflake that was resting on Kurt's cool cheek. "I told you it was," he said quietly.

Kurt sighed happily and took Blaine's hand again, linking their fingers together. They both turned to look at the Eiffel Tower again, their breath mingling in the air before them.

After a while, Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt. Snow was caught in the folds of his scarf and in locks of his hair, his cheeks were pink from the cold, and he could see the glittering lights of the Eiffel Tower reflected in his eyes. A soft smile crept onto his face as he gazed at his boyfriend. Some days he could hardly believe he was with someone as beautiful, caring, witty, and perfectly imperfect as Kurt. What great deed could he have possibly done to deserve someone like him in his life? What wonderful twist of fate had caused Kurt to fall in love with him?

He maybe didn't know the answers to any of those questions, but there was one thing Blaine was absolutely certain about: he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Kurt. His pulse leapt as he remembered the conversation he'd had with Rachel just before he left New York – now was the moment.

Kurt met his gaze and smiled. "I'm so glad I'm here with you," he said softly.

Blaine squeezed his hand. "Me too." He licked his lips, trying to think of a romantic way to do this but drawing a blank. Kurt was still smiling gently at him and Blaine realised that there was no need for a grand romantic gesture. They were here in Paris together, the snow falling gently, the Eiffel Tower glittering nearby, and they were in love; all he needed to do was just ask the question, the rest was perfect already.

"I wanted to ask you something," Blaine began slowly and a hint of curiosity appeared in Kurt's eyes. "When we get back to New York would you- would you want-" He took a steadying breath. "Would you like to move in with me?"

Kurt's eyes widened slightly and his lips parted in surprise and Blaine – waiting on tenterhooks for his answer – immediately started rambling.

"I talked to Rachel about it seeing as you've lived together for years and she said she knows someone who is looking for somewhere t-"

Kurt lunged forward and captured his lips in his own, effectively silencing his babbling. Wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and drawing the taller man against him, Blaine tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss.

"Yes," Kurt whispered when they broke apart. "Yes, Blaine, yes."

An uncontrollable smile spread across Blaine's face and he leaned in to kiss Kurt again, feeling Kurt's cool skin against his face and his lips warming more under his own mouth.

They were both panting a little when they parted. "I love you," Blaine whispered, nuzzling his icy nose against Kurt's.

"I love you, too," Kurt murmured.

The snow continued to fall on them in soft, icy caresses as they kissed again. Here, in Paris, by the Eiffel Tower at night, the flashing cameras of the paparazzi and the clamouring reporters felt miles away, like part of another life. Here, they were no longer two celebrities, no longer Kurt Hummel: popular talk show host, and Blaine Anderson: chart-topping musician. Here, they were just two young men in love. Here, they were just Kurt and Blaine.

* * *

**A/N: **That's it! Huge thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and/or put this on their alerts/favourites! And thanks once again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex! I'm quite sad that this story is now finished as I loved writing it and sharing it with you guys, but it couldn't last forever!

This story has actually been made into a PDF by the people at klaineficspdfs on Tumblr, so if that interests you then you can download it at that Tumblr :)

As I've said before, I am going to write a one-shot set 5/6 months after the end of this chapter which will be posted whenever it is written (not going to set a time when it will be posted as I have another one-shot unrelated to this story that I want to write and post first because of reasons), so look out for that :) It will include Kurt meeting Cooper for the first time as a reader mentioned they would like to see Cooper in the story.

The first chapter of my new story should be up sometime later in the week! It's called 'My Beautiful Rescue' (take from the title what you want ;) ) and it's quite angsty, but still has plenty of Klaine love :) It's completely different to anything I've written before, but there's no point in writing similar stuff all the time. So, please check that out if that interests you!

Thank you! :)


	23. AN on future one-shot

I've posted the future one-shot for this story! It's called 'Promises' and is posted separately as I don't want it at the end of here seeing as it's not an epilogue.

I'll delete this note in a few days, but I just wanted you guys with this story on alert to know.

Thanks! :)


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